


uhh moss roses

by orphan_account



Category: Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson
Genre: Cat Parent Joxaren | The Joxter, Each scene gets its own chapter, Every Mymlan | The Mymble child has a name, I'm sorry there are so many chapters, Joxaren | The Joxter gets punched, Landgrave and Denvir are giants, M/M, Sad Mumintrollet | Moomintroll, Snusmumriken | Snufkin is a Cat, There's probably a lot of mistakes, oc's are important to plot, they're sort of gay but it takes them a while
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:22:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 63
Words: 32,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22119349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Moomintroll learns valuable mental health lessons and figures out his own emotions in the process with the help of two giants.
Relationships: Lilla My | Little My & Snorkfröken | The Snork Maiden, Muminmamman | Moominmamma/Muminpappan | Moominpappa, Mumintrollet | Moomintroll & Snorkfröken | The Snork Maiden, Mumintrollet | Moomintroll/Snusmumriken | Snufkin
Comments: 6
Kudos: 31





	1. Moomin shares something with Snufkin.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm trying very hard. This is my first fanfiction to every reach the light of day. I hope you enjoy! Re-thought how I should post this, will post once a day because it's almost done.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moomin shares something with Snufkin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh! First chapter, first fic. Hope you'll enjoy!

“Oh, hello, Snufkin!” Moomin calls from his window, confused but excited. It’s nearing dusk and Moomintroll is prepared for bed. Snufkin only waves, his free hand pinning his green hat down. “Do you want me to come down there?” He can only just make out Snufkin nodding his head. He slides down the ladder, greatly misjudging just how cold the whip of the wind is, but he doesn’t want to give in. It forces his fur to ruffle. He continues down and almost lands on his feet, but he falls slightly short and faceplants. Snufkin pays him no mind.

“Sorry to wake you, but I would love to show you something,” Snufkin offers, turning to walk away.

Moomin scrambles to be upright, muttering small confirmations and ruffling his own fur. 

“Moomintroll, can I…?” Snufkin asks glancing down to Moomin’s arms. Moomin nods and lifts his hand a touch before Snufkin grabs it, continuing their journey.

Moomin doesn’t understand why holding hands makes Snufkin feel secure, but he won’t complain. “Where are you taking me?”

Snufkin only hums, but his grip tightens.

Moomin decides that it’s probably best a surprise, even more since it’s from Snufkin. He loses himself in thoughts once they pass the old wooden bridge near Snufkin’s campsite, wondering what he’ll have for breakfast and if he could touch the stars. Does Snufkin want to touch the stars? Probably. He likes stars.

“Moomintroll?” the mumrik questions, pushing Moomin’s shoulder a tad. 

“Huh?”

“You seemed lost in your own thoughts. I do hope it was fun up there, but we’re where I wanted to show you.” Snufkin lets go of his hand to point to a tree, leaving Moomin feeling colder, missing the touch. He forgot it was so windy.

“What about it?” Moomintroll asks crudely, not understanding why this was so important.

“You’ll see,” Snufkin whispers. The wind picks up, causing the leaves of the oak to sway. Moomin supposes that’s pretty, the dark and orange leaves complementing each other. Moomin vaguely wonders what it would be like to be one of those leaves. He supposes he already is, connected to the earth by some force he doesn’t quite understand, abandoned when the force loses use for it. Moomin assumes such thoughts shouldn’t be shared, so he just watches.

“Moomintroll, you look sad.” Snufkin is staring directly at him.

“What makes you say that?” Moomintroll says, attempting to make it seem like he isn’t.

“Well, you’re frowning. Are you sick? Or are you thinking of… my departure?”

Moomin decides that it’s none of Snufkin’s business. Why should he know? Why is he making this about him? “I’m not,” he says, far too tartly.

“I’m sorry to have offended you, I only care. If you wouldn’t like to explain, I wouldn’t force you.”

Moomin looks at him, taking in the remorse. He should know, he is his best friend. “I’m just thinking about the leaves.” Maybe he should wait to tell him.

“They are so pretty in the wind, are they not?”

“I suppose.” There’s silence. Snufkin clearly wants to speak--which Moomintroll can admit that it’s a first--but something’s holding him back. Moomin hopes its respect, but he expects it’s fear. If he is like a leaf in Autumn, then who compliments him? It can’t be Snufkin, he already is much like a leaf, green and brown and earthy. Moomin doesn’t look like a leaf, but it only makes sense. He’s useless in the grand scheme of things, doesn’t even resemble what he is represented by. He’ll never be a successful adventurer like his father and he’ll never be quite resourceful and smart as his mother. He won’t be one with the tide or stars like Snufkin, he won’t even want to leave. He won’t be gorgeous like Snorkmaiden, or clever as Little My, or as blissfully ignorant as Sniff. Where does he fit in? The clumsy and dramatic idiot? It seems about right.

“Moomin, look,” Snufkin says, pointing at the tree, pulling Moomin back to reality.

The tree was glowing and seemed to have sprouted bright blue and yellow flowers, it’s hue a fine gold. It smelled like honey.

Moomin notices that Snufkin has chosen silence to fully immerse themselves in the beauty of this tree. Moomin follows suit.

Moomin relaxes the tension he didn’t even realize he was holding when Snufkin grabs his hand once again, intertwining their fingers. His paw is so dark and furry, almost matted. Moomin wonders if he could comb him. He doesn’t ask.

“Snufkin?” he begins, already regretting his choice of words, although it’s only one.

Snufkin hums.

“Can I share something?”

“Why, yes, Moomintroll. I’d be delighted to hear it.”

Moomin sighs. “I feel like a leaf.” Snufkin’s face twists and his mouth opens as if to say something. Moomin continues, not wanting to hear it. “I’m just here until I’m not needed. I’m unique, but painfully like everything around me, connected and rooted to a vessel I’m not sure notices that I exist. Once my time comes to fall, I do it with many others, and we litter the earth. Even on a smaller scale, once autumn comes around, I am not needed anymore, and I get tossed away until something different comes along and uses me. I don’t know what I’m expected to do. I can’t handle it.” Moomin is crying, he knows he is. Snufkin is processing, and it’s frightening how hollow he looks.

It seems like Snufkin is trying to say his name, but only his lips move. Perhaps his throat is tightening up. Moomin understands. Perhaps Moomin should share that. It seems as good a time as any.

“Remember when you were late for the first time, Snufkin?” Moomintroll says, feeling like Snufkin is going to take this story personally. Snufkin nods, eyebrows scrunching up. “Now, don’t blame yourself, but that’s the first time I felt empty. I couldn’t eat, I could barely speak, my breathing felt shallow. My windpipe was warning me that any wrong turn would send me into a fit. It did. I tried to talk to Mamma about it, but all I could get out was your name. So, I cried. I just… didn’t stop until I fell asleep. I woke up and still felt like crying. And it continued. Even after you arrived, I felt so horrible. I could barely get down the stairs half the time. It took so much energy. I tried my best, then, I think. Mamma brought me food when it was dinnertime. Little My bullied me relentlessly until Mamma told her why I just couldn’t be at dinner. The feeling only cleared up around midsummer. You felt so distant then.” Moomin feels his eyes swell as Snufkin’s breaths become heavy. Moomin is so sorry, Snufkin, but he just can’t stop now. Snufkin needs to know that it was more than him being a selfish child. “It’s been, what? Four years since then? Huh, that doesn’t seem like such a long time, but it felt like it dragged on forever. Mamma told me that some people feel sad or upset or empty all the time, and that’s it’s okay to feel that way, but that I needed to tell her about it when it feels so. I told her the year after that. And after that. And after that. And this year, as well. She said that Granny didn’t have a cure for such a predicament, but she would look as hard as she could for one. Pappa said he would, too. And so did Too-Ticky and the Mymble’s daughter. They’ve come up dry, which is unfortunate.” Moomin takes a deep breath, leaving room for Snufkin to come up with anything.

“I didn’t know,” Snufkin says at last.

“How would you?” Moomin snaps. “Oh, no. I’m sorry, I just need to be defensive right now.”

“You’re forgiven.” The air is stagnant, although it is quite full of movement. The tree is brighter.

“Snufkin, I should’ve spoken to you about it. I shouldn’t have let it… fester.”

“Oh, Moomintroll, it’s okay.”

“No.”

“Do you want to talk about it now?”

“Ha! Why not?” Moomin laughs, trying to wipe away his tears.

Snufkin places his paw on Moomin’s shoulder, pushing down slightly as if to say, “Sit with me.” Moomin obliges. 

“That one party that Mamma threw when we got back from exploring the Hemulen’s catacombs, you remember it?”

“I remember the Hemulen.”

“Well, he provided some food for the party, as if to thank us and to apologize. You were there, just sort of… spacing out. I couldn’t blame you. Little My got hurt. We didn’t know it was possible, haha. Sniff was panicking because My didn’t want any deserts and he thought she had brain damage. Snorkmaiden was crying. I didn’t… care about what was happening or what happened. I didn’t feel sorry that Little My was all bandaged up and unable to care for herself. I didn’t care that Snorkmaiden or Sniff were in distress. I told Mamma. She hugged me and said I should socialize or hang out with you or find something to distract me. I asked you if you wanted to go somewhere. You told me that you didn’t want to spoil my fun. That hurt. I felt that it hurt more than I felt any of it. I informed you that I wanted to leave. You dismissed it as just my good-willed nature and set off on your own. I would’ve understood if you didn’t want to be around anyone, but you assuming that I was just doing it for you was selfish.” Moomin grabs Snufkin’s hand and rubs his knuckles to soothe him. “I’m sorry if it hurts to hear, but it hurts too much to keep it in.”

“I understand,” Snufkin answers. Moomin finds that it’s strange. Snufkin usually likes to add something deep to his words, but it seems he’s at a loss.

“It’s been better since Snorkmaiden and I broke up. Of course, at the time, it hurt so bad. Like I wasn’t worthy of love. Nobody bothered me, which hurt more. I really don’t enjoy change, it seems. When you took me to this tree, it was the first time in months I even felt different. Of course, I was excited every time we went on adventures, but my mood spoiled quickly. It’s even spoiled right now. I was excited in Spring, of course, but that’s a given. It seems that when everything relaxes, it ends up… sucking, for lack of a better word.”

“Familiarity seems to be both a problem and comfort for you.”

Moomin is surprised that this is the most Snufkin and unlike Snufkin thing Snufkin has said. It’s refreshing. To be unexpected is nice.

“Perhaps in moments of desperation you need the world to be a constant so you can process, but in times of falling out of mind, you need something new. Can I play you something, in this time of falling out?”

Moomin is almost angry that Snufkin can read him so well. He doesn’t need to process anything, that is true. He needs something new. He doesn’t understand how a harmonica song can be new, but maybe Snufkin wrote something fresh.

Snufkin stands up, releasing Moomin from a hold that not even Moomin noticed he was in. He walks over to the tree and spins thrice, eyes closed. Moomin looks up to see if it is a new moon. It is not. Snufkin doesn’t seem to be over whatever he is doing, bending down to smell one of the flowers. “It smells like your soap, almost, ha,” Snufkin says quietly, almost to himself, but directed toward Moomintroll. Moomin, of course, still thinks it smells of honey, not of his lavender soap. He doesn’t dwell on it. Maybe he does dwell on it, but that might come later.

Moomin doesn’t expect for Snufkin to start singing. He doesn’t expect the tree to start playing music. It sounds like a recorder. Moomin isn’t surprised that Snufkin can sing, he is quite the musician. The song he’s singing is familiar.

“All small beasts should have bows in their tails, or they’ll find themselves locked in Hemulen jails. If you make a mistake, get ready to pay, you can’t blame another and then ru-uh-uh-un away.” Snufkin really does have such a way with sentiment, even if it is just committed to memory rather than a product. It might even be better that way. Snufkin wrote this for him when they were younger. Moomin feels like this is such a different way of experiencing such a known thing that he doesn’t mind its predictability.

Snufkin continues to sing, making the tree play like this was meant to happen all along, no matter what had lead up to it. Once Snufkin finished, he bows jokingly, but Moomin still applauds.

“Oh, Snufkin, that was brilliant!” Moomin praises. He means it.

“I’m glad it made you feel better.” Snufkin leans down to grab Moomin’s hands, giving a moment of hesitation so Moomin can decide if he wants this.

Moomin nods slightly and his hands are snatched. Moomin looks to the tree again, just to what had happened to it. It was no longer glowing and the flowers were nowhere to be seen. Its playing had ceased when Snufkin had finished the tune. Moomin missed it.

“Snufkin?” Moomin asked, eyeing the tree.

“Yes, Moomintroll?”

“Thank you.” He supposes he’s unlike the leaves. While they rot away each year, he remains. They’re chucked off when they’re not needed, but Moomin’s presence is just postponed as it happens. Sure, in the long run, we’re all like leaves, but it’s only the small things that matter.

They return to Moominhouse; Snufkin to his tent in the garden, Moomintroll to his room.


	2. The Joxter shows up.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Joxter shows up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If parts should be italicized, I'm sorry, I'm lazy.

“Moomin, dear?” Mamma calls up the stairs. Moomin’s ears twitch at the noise as he awakes.

“Yes, Mamma?” Moomin answers, getting up.

Mamma knocks on his door. “We have a guest!” she excitedly whispers. 

“Oh, no. The Mymble? Fillyjonk?”

“No! You’ve probably heard of him from Pappa’s stories, but never mind that! Let’s have you meet him!” Moomintroll is surprised. She seems very animated. He supposes that it’s good but it’s just a change he wasn’t expecting when he feels quite the opposite.

Moomin regrets telling Snufkin, but at the same time, he’s quite relieved he did. He takes his sleep clothes off and stretches. It’s going to be a long day.

He hears creaking from the stairs from Moominmamma’s egression so he’s relieved. Perhaps they’ll forget about him and let him be. Of course, loneliness is not his favorite thing, but he was in no shape for entertaining a guest. The smell of eggs and what seems to be blueberry dissuades his ideas, being quickly followed by a determined trek to the dining room.

“Oh, Moominmaiden!” Moomin hears a thick Swedish accent yell. It has a hint of British. It sounds like Snufkin’s, which is interesting. It hurts his eardrums. “You do know how much I love a good pancake. Perhaps you’ll let me take this with me on my travels.” His travels? Moomin’s eyebrows scrunched. This person has way too much in common with Snufkin. It’s only two things, but they’re very specific things. He makes his way down the staircase and looks to the table. Now, this voice had three things in common with Snufkin: accent, traveling, and appearance. This person isn’t Snufkin, right?

“Hello?” Moomin introduced, not meaning for it to be a question.

“Well, well! You were right, Moominmaiden--or would that be Mamma? Huh. He looks just like Moomin!” the voice greeted.

“Ah, yes, thank you, sir,” Moomin brushed off the remark, looking down. He wasn’t hungry.

“Come here, dear. There are blueberry pancakes and eggs. I can cook you some fresh eggs! How will you take them?” Mamma smiled, motioning toward the stove.

“Can I have… some plain pancakes for now?” Moomin blushes, afraid of how the guest will respond.

“Of course, Moomin,” Mamma simply replies, turning to get started.

Moomin sits down across from the man. He was from Moominpappa’s youth? How? He seemed much to free-spirited to be as old as Pappa. Moomin feels ashamed for thinking of his Pappa as old but stands his ground--at his own brain, that is.

Moomin winces as the guest takes a sharp inhale and speaks in a very gruff voice, “Now, why aren’t you having these?” He’s referring to the blueberry pancakes.

“I’m afraid I’m not feeling too well, sir,” Moomin sighs, eyes darting around the table.

“Then these would surely help, would they not? Perhaps Moominmai--mamma,” he corrects, “could get you some medicine to help?”

“I think I’ll be alright, just a little under the weather. Glad you care though,” Moomin attempts to be suave. It seems too difficult a task for him to keep the joke up, so he tries to drop the act.

“And don’t call me sir, son,” the man jokes. 

“Whatever you say… dude.” Did he just call this boomer a dude? Why?

The guest’s eyes shoot open as if he has just made a discovery. Turns out he has. “I’m the Joxter, Moomintroll.”

He’s the WHAT?! He’s been awkward to the Joxter of all people? “Forgive me for not asking sooner, Joxter,” Moomin smiles, feeling horrible. He just wants to go back to his room or maybe fish with Snufkin.

“All’s forgiven when it’s not one’s fault.” Four things in common with Snufkin, now introducing: wise sayings.

A knock comes from the door. Moomin can tell it’s Snufkin, no one else ever knocks. Mamma, seeming to have not witnessed the entire conversation the Joxter and Moomin had endured plopped a small stack of pancakes in front of Moomin, signifying that she was going to the door and he should eat. Moomin obliges.

“Good to see you, Moominmamma,” Snufkin’s refreshingly light voice pipes. Of course, the Joxter’s accent was okay, but Moomin was biased. Snufkin walks into the kitchen, eyes the Joxter, and walks promptly out.

The Joxter laughs. “Oh, son! It’s great to see you!” He jumps across the table to tail-end Snufkin, engulfing him in a hug.

Snufkin only groans.

Moomin takes it upon himself to be offensive but stops short of chucking the Joxter across the room when he sees Snufkin smile. He’s released and returns to his stoic composure. “Father.” Ouch, that was cold, but there was a hint of whimsy in is tone. Perhaps this is some joke he has with the Joxter. Not the father-son thing, but being constantly calm when they’re obviously excited to see each other. They’re strikingly similar. Moomin wonders if Snufkin will have fur on his forehead and nose when he gets older.

“Oh! Moomintroll!” Snufkin says to Moomin, grabbing his attention.

Moomin cocks his head.

“I am going fishing and I was wondering if you’d want to join me,” he pauses, eyes flashing as he looks into the distance. “Father! Would you like to partake?”

Moomin wishes for the Joxter to say, “No, no. I have some catching up to do here,” but that never comes. What does come is similar but only upsetting.

“Why yes! We have some catching up to do, don’t we?” Snufkin nods his head enthusiastically. “Then let us,” the Joxter says, stomping out the door.

Snufkin whispers, “You’ll love him,” seriously, and grabs his hand to lead him out the door. “You don’t think you’ll fish today, do you? We can go back to your room if for your pole if you would like.”

Moomin shakes his head and follows. He doesn’t want to fish, he just wants time with Snufkin. And his father, he guesses, too.

They arrive at the bridge Snufkin usually fishes from but Snufkin encourages them to keep walking, seeming to have a new place in mind. The air is so fresh, but the Joxter’s presence interrupts the serenity.

“Moomin?” Snufkin asks, noticing how Moomin spaced out. 

“I’m fine,” he tiredly mumbles, trying to be reassuring with the amount of energy he has left.

“Oh, don’t fret, dove, we’ll be there shortly.” Moomin’s vitality skyrockets at the nickname. Sure, it’s from a 1 to a 3, but that’s still three times as much on the scale of liveliness.

Moomin almost forgot the Joxter was there but he reminds him in the worst way possible: teasing. “Dove?” he asks.

“What about it?” Snufkin’s voice is relaxed, but to the untrained ear, one wouldn’t notice that this was, in fact, a defensive tone.

“Oh, nothing,” the Joxter sighs, looking away with a broad smile. “Hey, Moomintroll?”

“Hm?” Moomin answers, his eyesight fluttering out of habit. This simple action is caused by slightly manually dilating one’s pupil so one’s vision becomes marginally blurrier. Of course, an outside witness couldn’t tell when one could do this unless they were actually studying how one’s eyes contort.

“Are you okay?” The Joxter is speaking empathetically, a modest worry in his words.

Before Moomintroll can answer, his knee locks up and he trips. “Moomintroll!” Snufkin yells, turning abruptly toward him. He helps him stand up, grabbing his forearm. His hand slips down to Moomin’s.

“I’m fine,” Moomin repeats.

“Moomintroll, you’re obviously not. Do you want to go back home?”

Moomin thinks. No, he does not, but can he risk any further embarrassment? Maybe he can take a nap if he returns. What will the Joxter think of him? Will he think he’s a loser who can’t handle a simple walk? He probably already does. “No, I can do this,” Moomin reassures, more like a promise to himself.

Snufkin mouths an, “Alright,” and they continue their not-so-merry way, Snufkin refusing to unhand Moomin.

The group eventually stops at a river unlike the one near Moominhouse. It’s calm, almost, and it’s surrounded entirely by pine trees, vibrant flowers, and rocks. It’s also rather large, nearly intimidatingly large.

“Ah, my boy,” the Joxter smacks his son’s back playfully. “Nice spot you’ve picked here.”

They fish for a while, Snufkin being silent while the Joxter talks nonstop. It’s annoying. Moomin is irritated. Joxter seems to be on a roll with the whole making-this-day-worse thing, so he says, “When Snufkin was wee lad, he used to refuse to bathe. I know, surprising, yeah? So one day the Mymble decided she had enough of that nonsense. She placed our boy right at the side of the house and doused him with a hose. Barely complained after that.”

Moomin doesn’t care. He looks at Snufkin for an invitation to leave, but all he sees is his friend’s flushed face. Moomin concludes that he is embarrassed and takes it as reason enough to leave. In fact, he becomes angry. 

“Oh, screw off,” Moomin mutters before standing up.

Snufkin gasps at the profanity, as minor as it is. The Joxter puts his fishing rod down and looks to Moomin, smiling as always. Moomin goes to walk away, but the Joxter trips him. “My, my, Moomin. Certainly, you have better behavior than that.” He faked a sniffle. “Disrespecting your elders? Are ya sure you don’t have a problem?”

Moomin can’t take it anymore. He’s so angry and so sad and so empty. It’s nothing and everything, and it’s all too much. Instead of yelling or arguing, he just cries. Not even Snufkin expects it. He curls up slightly, the pain of falling catching up to him, worsening the worst. He finds it to be feasible that he might even be the problem, coinciding with having one.

“Oh, Moomin-- I didn’t--” the Joxter tries, but Snufkin holds his hand out, warning the Joxter to stop.

Moomin can’t hear what Snufkin says next, but the Joxter hums in agreement and sits down to fish more.

“Moomintroll,” Snufkin consoles, patting Moomin’s shoulder. He doesn’t say anything more.


	3. The Joxter continues.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Joxter continues.

Moomin and Snufkin walk home without the Joxter, who deemed it necessary to disappear into the woods. Moomin notices that Snufkin is oddly quiet. Being quiet is normal for Snufkin, but this time was different. He seemed… sad. Snufkin, Moomin knows, can be sad, he understands. Snufkin is his own creature whose reality isn’t so different from Moomin’s own, revealing an empathetic glimpse into both of their minds. Snufkin is a stoic, withdrawn person, but this Snufkin is an awkward, tired Snufkin. Moomin chalks it up to be around people for too long. Sometimes creatures, even Snufkin, overestimate themselves. Snufkin had indulged his time into spending both with his father and a cranky--which isn’t the right word, but Moomin settles--Moomintroll. Moomin feels sorry for him.

“Oh, my Moomintroll,” Snorkmaiden gushes, noticing his ruffled fur and puffy eyes. “Let me get you some tea.” She hurries off, eerily reminding Moomin of his mother.

“Do you want some tea?” Moomin asks, guilt ripping into him. He feels as if Snufkin’s negative feelings are his fault, so he takes the initiative to help his friend.

“N’thanks,” Snufkin only replies, expression faltering. “Actually,” he decides, “I would.” Upon his smile, Moomin hears his friend’s stomach rumble. Moomin supposes that is to be expected when the Joxter ate all your fish.

Moomintroll nods, sitting down on the couch next to the door. “Thank you for bringing me today, Snuff.”

Snufkin sighs. “You hated it, Moomintroll.”

Snorkmaiden skids into the living room with three cups of tea; two breakfast teas and a black tea. The cups, Moomin realizes, are not of the Moominfamily’s. They are pale yellow porcelain with a stripe of various flowers and pearls with its handle, rim, and base a false gold. They’re pretty, and it makes him nervous. Surprisingly, she gives Moomin and Snufkin the breakfast teas and places the black tea on the coffee table, seemingly for her. Moomin has always known her for a sweet tooth and Snufkin quite the opposite, but it seems neither of them complain.

“Moomintroll, I saw the best flowers over by Sniff’s house today! They were these light hollyhocks, according to Mr. Hemulen and he even let me keep some! I wove them into a reef for my home and my brother legitimately liked them! Have you guys seen any nice flowers recently?” Snorkmaiden rambled, none to the interest of Moomintroll.

“Well, yes, some Evening Primrose,” Snufkin answered. Moomin has no idea why Snufkin and Snorkmaiden are talking. It’s not like they aren’t friends, but they usually keep to themselves. Perhaps he’s just upset and it’s his emotions getting the better of him, tying him up in jealousy. He’s hungry.

“Snorkmaiden,” Mamma calls from the kitchen. “Let’s get started on dinner.”

“Oh, you’re helping with dinner tonight, Snorkmaiden?” Moomin asks, everything getting more confusing for him. Why is she helping with dinner?

“Hehe, yes!” She runs to the kitchen.

Moomin looks to Snufkin for an ounce of reassurance, but he is only answered with a shrug.

Why was everyone being so weird? Moomin just wanted to go to bed, but then Snufkin would leave and be hungry for the night or stay up too late trying to catch something. Where was Pappa? He’s been absent from Moomin’s day. Maybe he left to escape the Joxter or maybe he got a really good train of thought going and was writing. Moomin felt helpless, even though nothing had really happened.

“Moomintroll, son,” the Joxter suddenly greeted, causing Snufkin to choke on his tea. “Sorry ‘bout the fish, Snufkin. Sorry for making you cry, dove.”

Moomin felt like he was going to throw up. This menace thought he could chase off his father and embarrass his Snufkin--yes, Moomin gets embarrassed at calling Snufkin his, even in his own mind; Snufkin is not his for owning, but it seems appropriate--and then call him dove? Snufkin, Moomin can tell, is infuriated, his eyes shooting open and his grip tightening--when did they start holding hands?

“Really, I am, dove. I didn’t realize that your emotions run deep with your age and for that, I should be ashamed.”

“Father,” Snufkin curtly says.

“Yes?”

“Stop calling Moomintroll dove.” His voice is strong and confident, with a horrifying sense of calm to it. The Joxter opens his mouth to retort, but Snufkin continues to speak. “It was nice seeing you, father. When do you think you’ll next visit the valley?” Snufkin is telling the Joxter to leave and Moomin praises himself for realizing that.

The Joxter emits some sort of sound reminiscent of a, “Hmph,” before plopping down at the table in the kitchen, still close enough to have a conversation. “Maybe in a few years, maybe next week. Who knows?”

“Oh, you’ll be leaving tonight?” Moominmamma asks, shocking Moomintroll. He forgot that they weren’t alone in this house.

The Joxter glances toward Snufkin before confirming, “Yes.”

“Tell me you will have dinner with us, despite that,” Moominmamma pleads.

“Of course, Moominmamma.”


	4. The Joxter says a very mean thing.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Joxter says a very mean thing.

“Moomin, dear,” Snorkmaiden says, gesturing at his plate, “You must eat more than that. I cooked your favorite!”

Moomintroll hates this dinner. It’s a breakfast food dinner with no plain foods. It's unnerving to try to eat; everything turns to sand in his mouth. The dish Snorkmaiden is referring to is blueberry pancakes. Snufkin is here. The Joxter is here. Moominpappa has disappeared.

“Now, now, Snorkmaiden. Moomintroll can eat and not eat what he wants,” Moominmamma lectures, but then turns to Moomintroll, “as long as he ends up eating something.” Moomin feels embarrassed. He shovels some scrambled eggs onto his plate.

The Joxter speaks up. “Boring. Anyway! Time to talk about me!” His smile was devilish. “Throughout my travels, I have only met 5 moomins! Ever! I have seen other moomins, yes, but I’ve interacted with a scarce amount.” Moomin gets a bad feeling when he looks to Snufkin to see him glaring at his father. Snufkin must know the Joxter is about to say something horrible. He does. “Every moomin eats like there’s no tomorrow! Bottomless pits, they are. You, however, Moomintroll… don’t seem to.” Moomin feels like crying.

“Father!” Snufkin shouts, much to Moomintroll’s surprise.

“What did I do this time?” the Joxter asks defensively.

“You’re being racist and inappropriate.”

The Joxter stands up. “It was not! It was a fact! I said every moomin I have met had the same characteristics. And how am I being inappropriate, anyway? The kid should eat, for Tove’s sake.”

Snufkin is acting unlike Moomin had ever witnessed him act before. His arms fly up with each curt word and his anger is practically to be seen. “You don’t get a decision in how he acts! You don’t even know what it’s like to have a kid, to be a kid now. It’s different.”

The Joxter, for once, is silent and speaks only for his exit. “Lovely dinner, Mamma, Snorkmaiden. I must be on my way. Don’t expect me in the future.” Snufkin drops back into his seat, a regretful look filling his eyes.

Moomin gets up and walks up the stairs. Snufkin follows behind him, closing the door to his room when the time calls for it.

Snufkin decides this time calls for talking. “Moomintroll, you don’t deserve that kind of treatment from the likes of him.”

“And who do I deserve to be treated like that from?”

“Moomin, no, that’s not what I mean.”

“Hard to tell.”

Snufkin does the thing again when he’s particularly upset that he had demonstrated at dinner. “Stop doing that. I care for you and I hate for you to be insulted. I was standing up for you!”

“I never asked you to! I wish you believed I could things on my own without you having to do it for me!”

“It was my father! It was for both of us!”

“Why do you have to be so selfish?!”

“I’m not trying to be! I just you to be happy! Why don’t you understand me anymore?!”

Moomintroll’s fists shake in rage. Couldn’t see that he was struggling? What happened to yesterday, when he told him what’s been wrong?

Snufkin’s face drops. “Moomin, I didn’t…” he trails off, attempting to grab Moomintroll’s hands, but Moomin rips them away.

He shakes his head before descending down the ladder out of his window, his entire body trembling with remorse and wrath. Moomin’s mind is plagued with memories, both good and bad. 

Their first spring reunion. Moomin awoke to a spring tune he had never heard before and scrambled down his ladder. His efforts were rewarded with his new friend, Snufkin, being right there in the valley once again. Moomin told him how much he loved his tunes that year.

The first fish Snufkin helped him to catch. They were sitting on the bridge and Moomin had brought his own fishing rod. He admitted he didn’t really know how to use it so Snufkin taught him best he could.

When Moomin tried to eat the scales of the fish, not understanding meat at all because he was raised vegetarian. Moomin really hadn’t gone on adventures with his Pappa or Mamma when he was that young, so they never had to hunt for food.

The time Snufkin fell from his ladder all those years ago. It was sad and scary. Snufkin broke his arm and was miserable. Moomin couldn’t do anything to help him and just sat there and watched him suffer while Moominmamma tended to him.

When Moomin got kicked in the face by a hircus they were attempting to befriend. Snufkin laughed very hard and it made Moomin feel much better, especially after Snufkin apologized.

When Little My got hurt. They really thought she was invincible.

When Snorkmaiden broke up with him. Snufkin was there for him and Snorkmaiden, being a perennial force.

When Snufkin told him he loved him, but he thought he couldn’t hear. It was late at night and they were resting in a flower field. Moomin was certainly drowsy, but not unconscious. Snufkin wrapped his arms around him best he could and whispered to the winds, “I love you, Moomin.” He almost forgot about that one. He wishes he could.

When they spoke yesterday. 

When he cried in front of the Joxter.

Moomin finds the ground with his feet, wishing not to fall. He runs off, away from Moominhouse; away from Snufkin.

“Moomin!” Moominmamma calls, trying to chase him as he nears the bridge. She falls. Moominpappa rushes out to help her up, looking out to their son. Moominmamma looks up to Moomintroll’s window, seeing Snufkin, hand in front of his mouth, eyes streaming. Moomin can’t stand to see her upset, but his wishes to make her feel better come true and he trips, giving her a chance to catch him.

“Mamma, please,” Moomin pleads.

“Oh, Moomintroll, please don’t go. We’d be very lonely if you were to leave, dear.”

Moomin sighs. He manages, “Okay,” and allows them to bring him to the house. He glances at his window wishing and resenting the hope of seeing Snufkin. He does see him, but it’s him running past them, seemingly to hide in his tent. Moomin wished he didn’t make his friends feel horrible like this. It’s all his fault.


	5. Moomin feels bad for feeling bad.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moomin feels bad for feeling bad (which will be a common occurrence).

Moomin hits his head against his door frame. He’s so frustrated and guilt-ridden. Why was he here? Why did he accuse Snufkin of whatever they were talking about? Was Snufkin mad because Moomin made his dad go away, too?

“Moomintroll!” Little My yells. 

“My,” Moomin grumbles.

“I’m back, dewdropper!” Moomin hates when Little My uses stupid slang. That’s why she does it.

“Where’s my little brother? You scare him away?”

“What do you mean?” He flops down on his bed, trying to hide his concern.

“His tents gone. You didn’t know? I thought he always told you when he left.”

“Well, he didn’t.” Was he really gone? “What do you care?”

“He’s my brother!” she almost screeches.

Was he really gone? Was he really gone? Was he really gone? Was he really gone? Was he really gone? Was he really gone? Was he really gone? Why did Moomin yell at him? Why did Moomin yell at him? Why did Moomin yell at him? Why did Moomin yell at him? Why did Moomin yell at him? 

When Moomin looked up again, he feels his eyes unfocus and his face gets hot.

“Moomin?” Moomin hears Little My say.

“Hmm?” Moominmamma asks, walking into the room with a tray of… something? He feels nauseous.

“‘M fine, Mmmma,” Moomin mumbles, unable to recognize his own words. His eyes sting. His palms are moist. He feels every shift of air.

“Dear?” Mamma asks.

Moomin’s eyes revert and he can see the worry on her face. His ears feel hot. He tries to speak but he finds he’s unable to. Instead of words, he produces tears and sobs. He feels like a child whose best friend was late for their yearly reunion. He can feel Mamma rubbing circles into his back. He also feels someone tiny hugging his arm. He can just barely make out that it is Little My. Moomin supposes that it’s odd. All Little My would do when he threw--for lack of a better word--a fit was make fun of him. Maybe Little My is scared, too.


	6. Beatrice and June show up and we get to figure out something that Moomin doesn't know.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two OC's show up and we get to figure out something that Moomin doesn't know.

Moomin awakes to a guitar song.

“Snufkin?” he asks, knowing better, but then again: who else knows how to play guitar?

“June! Get away from there!” a voice yells way too close to him, still muffled by the walls surrounding him. “June! Moominmamma said to keep away!” His door opens suddenly.

“Oh! Sorry… sir? Ma’am? Can never tell with you Moomins. What are you doing?” a small, androgynous teenager yells. They sound like they are Irish. Moomin wonders why the uproar of racism was so popular with him specifically. “Hello? I asked you a question!”

Moomin tried to answer but was interrupted by a mymble girl of a similar age, possibly older. “June! Have you no respect? Moominmamma said not to bother sleeping people.” She was also Celtic. She turns to Moomin. “You’ll have to excuse my sibling, June. They don’t understand rules.”

Moomin’s reminded of how Snufkin disregards rules. He lets the thought surround him. It seems to make him feel… something.

“Beatrice? June?” Moominmamma asks, peeping through his door. Too many people.

“Moominmamma! Why were you hiding this person from us? Are they a felon? Are they on the run? What did they commit? Arson? Murder?” the teen assumed to be June interrogates.

“None, sweetie. This is my son, Moomintroll.” Why won’t anyone shut up?

“Aha! This is your secret son!”

“No, no. Just my sleeping one. Or at least, was sleeping.” Moominmamma walks to his bed, forcing the siblings away. “How are you feeling, dear?”

Moomin turns his head toward her. “Same as always.”

Moominmamma nods. “Would you like some oatmeal?”

“Yes, Mamma. Can I have some blackberries with it?”

Moominmamma practically beams at his request for flavor. “Of course, dear,” she says calmly.

“Are you sick?” Beatrice asks with sincere worry. Not for herself, he realizes, for him.

“Not a contagious sick. Mamma isn’t sure how to define it, though. It’s not something with a cure, it seems.”

“So you’re bedridden?”

“No, just lazy in the morning.” Beatrice laughs. When she finishes, her face is red. Moomin doesn’t know why; she didn’t laugh for long or hard enough to make her blush that intensely.

“Can we stay in here?”

“Forgive me, who are you?”

“Oh!” Beatrice says, hands flying up. Like Snufkin when he’s particularly excited. Or when, Moomin finds, he is very mad.

Before Beatrice can continue, her sibling pipes up. “We’re pirates!”

Moomintroll looks to Beatrice for verification. She nods. “Actually, yes. We’re swashbucklers from Ireland. We’re here with our sister on a quest to find our purpose. Maybe adventuring will be, who knows?”

“Where’s she, then?”

“That’s the thing! We don’t know. But some travelers told us she’s here, or at least she usually is.”

Moomintroll can’t think of a single person who’s as mymble-mumrik-like as these children aside from Little My and Snufkin. If it were Little My, then why not any of the other mymble children? Moomin thought My and The Mymble’s daughter were of the same father. Maybe My’s on her own. “Little My?” he asks.

“No, no. It starts with an ‘S’. Our mother kept a notebook telling us how our father had a daughter and all the adventures they went on together. Not our mother in the adventures, though, just the Joxter and his kid. The girl’s name was almost unreadable; our mother had horrible handwriting.”

Hearing that man’s name made Moomin’s fur stand on its ends. The Joxter had a daughter?

Little My jumps into the room. June screams. Not scared screaming, more like a war scream.

“Moomin!” Little My says accusingly. “These travelers brought a cool guitar! Beatrice was playing for us earlier.” She shakes her fist almost comically at June, causing the siblings to hurry out, laughing. My closes the door. “What did they say?”

“Huh? Oh, right. They’re here for their sister.”

“Okay, Moomintroll, before anyone says anything else, it’s--” A loud banging on the door interrupts her and in comes the siblings.

“Hey, Moomin,” Beatrice says shyly. Weird.

“Let’s go on an adventure!” June proposes.

Moomin turns to Little My to hear what she was previously saying but she just shakes her head.

“Maybe later,” Moomintroll answers, ignoring the disapproval of the others. He wants to read. He reaches for a book about flowers but June snatches it. They are even more annoying than Little My. “Hey! What are you doing? That’s mine!” It is his. It’s a flower pressing book. Snufkin and he have been filling it for a while.

“Ooh! What’s this? Your girlfriend?” June teases, reading a note inside the cover.

“My what?” Moomin asks, embarrassed. He knows exactly what it says, he’s read more times than he’s willing to admit.

My Moomintroll,

It’s fair to say that flowers are beautiful. They work in crowns and thrones and out in the wild. They come in such brilliant colors, like a painting unlike any other. On my trips to the south, I’ve come to realize that you’re quite like a white magnolia. Physically and in spirit, that is. Interestingly enough, they grow on trees and aren’t even buds! They’re so wonderful and interesting, just like you. I got us this book so we could keep flowers we thought of as handsome, just to preserve what we can have. Stay warm, dove.

Snufkin.

June’s eyes widened, causing Beatrice a fright. “It’s her! Our sister!”

“How can you be sure, June?”

“Look at the name! It’s hers!”

“I do say, that does look familiar.”

June slammed the book shut, causing a petal of some sort of pink flower to fall out. Moomin feels like crying. What are they talking about?

June yells triumphantly. “Moomin! Your girlfriend is our sister!”

His what? Moomin doesn’t have a girlfriend. Wait! Snorkmaiden! That starts with an ‘S’! Was the Joxter Snorkmaiden’s father? Were Snorkmaiden and Snufkin half-siblings? Moomin’s a little absent-minded, so he fabricates any idea that leads him somewhere, even if it doesn’t make sense. He ignores that he knows that they were referring to Snufkin’s name. Perhaps Snorkmaiden and Snufkin’s names look alike to the untrained eye.

“That’s it!” Little My screams. “You two! Out! Go on your adventure and leave him alone!”

June stands their ground, protecting their older sister. “But we figured it out!”

“You don’t know anything about Snufkin!” Little My yells. Her yelling is usually bratty, but this time she was just angry.

Moomin is fearful. This is a scary Little My. He’s so confused. What are they talking about? Where’s Snufkin? Where’s Pappa? Why are they all yelling? Where’s Snufkin? Where’s Snufkin? Where’s Snufkin?

“Look at him, June!” Beatrice scolds. “You made him cry.”

Haha, what? No! Moomintroll isn’t crying. That would be immature. Okay, maybe he is crying. He feels pathetic. “Hey,” Moomin pipes up, refusing to let his voice stifle him. “Everyone.” They turn toward Moomin. “Get out.”

Little My hisses and winks, rushing the company out.

Tap, tap, Moomin hears from the window. He sits up and turns. It’s Snufkin! “Oh, Snufkin!” he says, opening the window.

Snufkin doesn’t waste any time. “Moomintroll you have to help me--have you been crying? Oh, no, nevermind. Please help. There are two siblings looking for me and I just can’t be with them.” Moomin takes the pause to notice that Snufkin does not have his tent roll, bag, or even hat on.

“June… and Beatrice?”

“You’ve seen them?! Please don’t let them know I’m here!”

“Are they going to hurt you?” Moomin asks, jumping to action to lock his door. Snufkin climbs in.

“No, no. They’re going to try to tag along with my travels and spend so much time with me and--and--”

“Shh, shh,” Moomin consoles. He wraps Snufkin in his arms, trying to calm him down. “Take a deep breath. You’re here with me, okay?” Moomin feels all the guilt he spent up dissipate and Snufkin took his face in his hands, staring into his eyes.

“I’m sorry for probably making you cry and for going without a say,” Snufkin whispers. 

“I forgive you. I shouldn’t have been so selfish when you were helping me. It’s just…”

“I know.”

A knock interrupted their moment and Moomin heard Beatrice shushing June. “That’s them!” Moomintroll informed Snufkin. Snufkin scrambled to hide in Moomin’s wardrobe.

“Moomin!” Beatrice greeted as she stepped into the room as the door unlocked. She shut it behind herself, keeping June away. “Just the creature I wanted to spend time with. You’ll have to excuse my sibling’s behavior. They don’t quite understand us older folk.”

“I’m sorry, I’m not following.”

“Us kin, Moomin. We’re one alike, you and me. Perhaps you’ll want to join our adventure… forever?”

“No.”

“What?” Beatrice’s face is bright red.

“I don’t want to.”

“But June will be nice!”

“I don’t care about June. Or you. I just want to be in my valley, waiting for my friend to come back so we can hang out.”

“But she will come with us, too!”

Snufkin barrels out of the wardrobe. “Leave me alone!” he yells.

“Finally! We found you, sister!”

“I’m not your sister.”

Moomin is even more confused. Why did Beatrice think Snufkin was her sister--oh. Oh! Well, Moomin needs to stand up for him now. Beatrice has no right to be so blatantly disrespectful of Snufkin’s personal space, pronouns, gender, or boundaries! No one does! Moomin also realizes that his recent theory about Snorkmaiden was now invalid.

“But you’re the Joxter’s daughter!” Beatrice tries to explain.

“NO! I am the Joxter’s son! Maybe not when we met, maybe not when our parents met, but I certainly am! Leave me alone!”

Beatrice collapses.

“What?” Moomin asks Snufkin regarding Beatrice. “Why’d she do that?”

“Shock, I suppose.”


	7. Tears are fought briefly. Snufkin repeats the one thing he knows how to do: leave.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tears are fought briefly. Snufkin repeats the one thing he knows how to do: leave.

“What did you do while you were away?” Moomintroll asks Snufkin as they wait in his room. Mamma is keeping care of Beatrice while she’s unconscious.

Snufkin hums. “Moomin, I think we need to talk about what happened… more. Or at least let me explain.” Moomin nods his head. “I left because I was upset, yes. I had hiked up the Lonely Mountains and pitched my tent there. I decided I wanted to be on the beach for the morning when I awoke earlier so I walked down there to breathe in the air. You know how I get those… butterflies in my stomach when something bad is about to happen?” Moomin nods again. “That happened. The siblings walked by, talking about the Joxter’s daughter,” he whispered daughter, “and I knew I had to leave. I hid until they were gone and made it here. Only to--haha--find out they were here, too.” Snufkin pauses, trying to form what he wants to say. “I’m sorry, Moomin. I should’ve told you I was to leave.”

Moomin stays quiet, taking in everything Snufkin has said.

Little My appears behind Moomin, shocking him as she jumps on his shoulders. “Uh! Little My!”

“That is me, grifter. Anyway, you should probably wish Beatrice and June goodbye, Moomin. They seem to like you a lot.” She laughs maniacally.

“Thank you very much, My,” Snufkin answers for Moomin, standing up. “I must be on my way.”

Moomin panics. He can’t be leaving this soon, can he? “Why won’t you join us for tea?” Oh, Tove, he sounds like his mother.

“Thank you very much, Moomintroll, but I need my bag. And my tent and hat. Perhaps later. Can’t much camp without equipment.” He goes to tip his hat but only comes up with him gripping the air. He tips his not-there hat anyway. Moomin thinks he did a good job of being chill. Snufkin descends down Moomin’s ladder. Moomin wishes that Snufkin won’t fall. He wishes that every time Snufkin leaves. He arrives safely on the ground and Moomin physically relaxes, lying on his bed.

“Do you always have to get so sad when he leaves?” Little My asks, exciting. Moomin follows. He praises himself for being able to do so.

“Oh, Moomin, young lad!” Moominpappa yells. Moomin stops breathing when his father’s hand comes down on his back.

“Pappa! You’re back!” Moomin manages, uncomfortable. Why did he leave his room? Why was Pappa yelling?

“Yes, son! We, Moomins, must follow our whims of adventure and divergence. Especially when the Joxter is around.” Pappa winks. Moomin cringes at the name.

“Haha, okay.” Moomin takes his place at the table, not understanding anything. It seems that he doesn’t understand much these days. It’s frustrating. Thinking about it makes him sweat.

“In my youth, son, Moomin, my boy, I met your Snufkin’s very own pappa before Snufkin even existed.”

“I’m aware.” Moomin tried not to start crying when he said your.

“Why, yes! We did,” Moominmamma enters the room. “Beatrice is alright. She and June are packing. They don’t feel welcome here, it seems. What a shame.” She takes a moment. “Any news? I couldn’t talk to them myself.”

“About what?” Moomin asks. He is ignored.

“Yes, yes. Turns out they were looking in the wrong Valley. And it wasn’t the Joxter after all,” Little My answers. Oh, it’s about Beatrice and June. And Snufkin but Mamma doesn’t know that. Unless she does.

“Are you sure, My? I think they found who they were looking for, but the person denied them.” Moomin is delighted to have figured out that Mamma and Little My are participating in some sort of game-like conversation about dancing around what happened.

“Such a keen mind, Mamma. That is what happened. In fact, the person yelled at them. It was funny.”

“Now, what are you two talking about?” Pappa asks, folding a newspaper. Moomin gets lost in thought, thinking about the newspaper. Was there a publisher in Moominvalley? Did the mailman give him this newspaper? He catches a glimpse at an article. It speaks of the Joxter trashing Mrs. Fillyjonk’s yard. Did some Hemulen or Fillyjonk write this? Where do they acquire ink? Do they use a printing press?

“Moomin, stop thinking about cake-eaters for one moment and answer us!” Little My screeches.

Moomin glares at her and blushes, realizing what she's implying. “Little My!” he scolds. “I was not! I was thinking of newspapers!”

“Sure you were, Moomin!”

“Little My, play nice,” Moominmamma interjects. “Moomin, we were asking what you wanted for dinner? Would Snufkin like to join us?”

“Cream of Mushroom sounds good! And I’ll ask him!” Moomin hurriedly informs them, excited to get an excuse to see his friend. Realistically, he knows that he can see Snufkin whenever he would like to, but he feels guilty when he arrives without purpose.

Moomin barely hears them ask if they even have mushrooms as he jolts to Snufkin’s… empty camping spot. He must still be in the Lonely Mountains. He feels disappointed.


	8. The siblings leave.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The siblings leave.

“Hey, Moomin,” Beatrice tries to say before she’s interrupted by Little My.

“They’re finally taking blow! Leaving, Moomin! Leaving!”

Beatrice scoffs. “Rude.”

“Thank you! Now go away!”


	9. We meet two very important characters.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet two very important characters.

Moomin and Little My walk to the beach. Snorkmaiden refused to join them, speaking of nonsense such as, “I need to cook you a good dinner, Moomin!” and, “No, no, I’d just weigh you down.” Moomin pleaded with her, telling her that she was worth so much more than that. She laughed.

Moomin and Little stay near the grass on the beach. Moomin notices some bloody cranesbill. He remembers the first time Snufkin saw these flowers. Moomin found it odd and laughed quite hard when Snufkin gasped at bloody.

Other flowers surround the friends, mostly daisies. Moomin assumes that Mr. Hemulen must have moved them here. Daisies don’t usually grow at the beach.

Moomin picks some of the flowers and weaves them together. He intends to make Little My a flower crown.

My isn’t running around like Moomin thought she might. She’s sitting down, listening to the waves with her eyes closed. She almost looks like Snufkin but Moomin realizes, again, that they are related.

They stay sitting. “Little My?”

“Hmm?”

“Here.” He places the crown upon her head.

My smiles smugly. “Can’t even relax for a second, huh?” She whispers her gratitude when she thinks he can’t hear her. He can.

“Hey, guys,” Sniff says, scaring the bejesus out of the two.

“Sniff!” Little My yells. “When did you get here?”

“I was with you guys since Moominhouse?”

Moomin doesn’t have a clue if he was or was not. “Oh, sorry, Sniff. What did you want?”

“There’s like… two very tall creatures over there.”

“Where?” Little My asks, confused. Her flower crown compliments her hair quite nicely. Moomin thinks about the fact that every creature seems tall to Little My.

“There!” Sniff points to a tree.

Moomin laughs. Hard. Yes, Sniff. Sure is tall, haha. The tree starts to move.

“Hmm?” it asks. Another tree moves next to it, but this tree is strikingly black and white. They are about ten times larger than Moomin himself. The black and white one is taller than the green one but one would barely notice.

“What’s going on?” the other says, it’s accent strange Moomin’s laughter dies quickly.

“Who are you?” My yells at the top of her lungs. It doesn’t seem to be loud enough.

“What? You're quiet, are you not?” the black and white giant asks. “Oh! Do you know where Snufkin is?”

Moomin can only recognize Snufkin. The giant’s tongue seemed unacquainted with pronouncing the name’s vowels. Little My raises her voice. Moomin covers his ears.

“SNUFKIN? YES! FOLLOW US!”

The giants smile. It’s horrifying. The gang runs to Moominhouse, hoping to see Snufkin back. He is not. Little My curses under her breath.

The giants were still at the beach but were very visible. Moomin had previously disregarded their height. Moomin didn’t use his brain when recognizing what trees could rationally be. Moomin wonders why they’re still standing there. He is answered.

The giants walk to Moominhouse in 5 seconds. It took the children a few minutes to sprint.

Little My bellows, “PICK ME UP.” The green giant places her in his hand. She yells again, but not as loud, “Put me on the roof!” The green giant follows her instructions once again. Little My yells more, trying to communicate with the giants. Moomin and Sniff run up the stairs to the roof.

“My! What are you doing?” Moomin asks, desperate. These giants were so terribly large. He was quite frightened.

“I don’t know! I’m waiting for Snufkin to come back. He’ll know what to do.”

“Landgrave! Denvir!” they hear Snufkin yell from the path. Those are their names, Moomin notes.

“Snufkin!” the black and white one says excitedly. The green one also looks enlivened. The black and white one places his hand on the ground. Moomin can’t see what’s happening. He turns around again and Moomin sees Snufkin sitting on his paw.

Moomin waves and Snufkin points, Moomin not being able to hear any of what he’s saying. He’s certainly yelling but his pronunciation is out of whack. The black and white giant looks to Moomin but before he can speak, the green giant taps his arm and whispers to him. Moomin feels embarrassed but he doesn’t know why.

“Hello, Moomintroll. I’m Landgrave,” the black and white giant says. He gestures to the green one with his free hand. “This is Denvir.” He says everything slowly, thinking about how to say it.

Snufkin says something again. “The small one is Little My and the frightened one is Sniff.” They wave again. “Could you put me down?” Landgrave nods and puts Snufkin next to Moomin.

“How…?” Moomin tries to ask. How did Snufkin meet these two? He could guess that Snufkin would have been adventuring and came across them.

“They’ve lived around 500 years. They don’t die, they keep growing. They can die, however. They’re not immune to sickness or getting hurt. Landgrave is older than Denvir.” Snufkin adjusts his hat. “They’re completely different species. They don’t look alike, as you can tell.”

Moomin nods, not quite understanding. This is stressful for him. He doesn’t want to yell. “Little My,” Moomin says. My turns to him. “Could you tell them I say hi?”

Little My looks at him disapprovingly as if to say, “Well, well. Can’t do it yourself, huh?” She screams his greetings. Sniff winces.

“Oh! Thank you, Moomin!” Landgrave beams. Snufkin yells the name of Moominmamma and Pappa as they arrive outside.

Moominmamma invites them inside but then realizes what mistake she’s made. “My apologies! How about we move our meal outside?!” Moominmamma goes back inside, ordering Sniff and Little My to bring out chairs and tables. The chairs are put on the porch and the table is set, Moominmamma brings out a feast fit for… a small Moomin gathering.

“Awe! Thank you, Moominmamma!” Landgrave says. Moomin notices the cauliflower with various vegetables she’s holding. That certainly cannot be enough. Landgrave and Denvir look at each other and then at Moominmamma.

“This is beautiful, Mamma,” Denvir speaks. His voice is warm. 

Landgrave holds his hand out for some food to be distributed. Mamma, seemingly oblivious, places the food into Landgrave’s hand. He pauses then puts it in his mouth, chews once, and swallows. He nods reassuringly and Moominmamma’s face drops.

“Oh, no! Oh, no! I’m so terribly sorry! I seem to not be in the best of mind today, I’ll do something else for you two! Oh, my, I am quite silly as of late.” She doesn’t need to scream, Moominpappa has produced a megaphone of sorts. She mumbles something else to herself and looks at the children. “Moomin, Snufkin! Please fish a lot of fish for our guests, please, if you wouldn’t mind. We need to make it up to them.” Snufkin nods and grabs Moomin’s hand.

He doesn’t take the megaphone, seemingly use to shrieking. “Moomin and I are going to fish for you! Cheerio!”

Denvir nods and smiles. Landgrave does so, too.

And so, they are off.


	10. Snufkin is about to tell us a story.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snufkin is about to tell us a story.

The two boys find a bay with wonderful weeping willows awaiting them. There’s an abandoned dock. Snufkin points out that the boats tied to the structure look very sturdy. Moomin volunteers to test out the boat but Snufkin dismisses him and says that any danger that comes to him will haunt him forever. It does not change anything about the way Moomin feels.

“Snuff,” Moomin starts. “How did you meet the giants?”


	11. The story is brief.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story is brief.

Snufkin, small and innocent but with a sharp eye for trouble, walked through a forest much too big for a tiny boy like him. He was yet to cut his hair the way that would make him feel better, so his neck was hot and scratchy.

“HA!” a loud voice boomed. “You know, many waterfalls we've happened upon seem made for mice. I wouldn't be surprised if--oh! Look Denvir!” The voice’s carrier arrived in front of Snufkin, almost crushing him. “Hello, little one.” His companion stopped too.

“What are you saying?!” Snufkin yelled.

The giant only tilted his head. “Hello! I’m Landgrave! This is Denviriskin!”

The giants took Snufkin to a cave overlooking a large, large forest. They spoke, Snufkin quickly adapting to speaking how they do. It was easier than speaking British English, Snufkin could tell you that. The giants would have difficulty learning.

They gave Snufkin a tiny pair of scissors--not tiny to him, tiny to them. They explained how to cut hair with them cutting Denvir’s hair after they heard him express his feelings. They bonded quite a bit.

After that, Snufkin visited a total of 4 times, telling them about how he found the valley and all his new friends and Moomin and how they should visit.


	12. The Joxter gets decked.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moomin almost confesses something the readers might already know which comes off confusing because not even Moomin himself realizes exactly what he means until later in the story. The Joxter gets decked.

“I guess they took up your offer,” Moomin says bluntly from the boat. Snufkin hums, placing himself beside him. They sit for a moment, Moomin noticing Snufkin fidgeting to and fro. “Everything alright, Snufkin?”

Snufkin pauses, looking into Moomin’s eyes then away. “No.” Time stops. Moomin feels the crushing weight of guilt pound his heart. He doesn’t even know what Snufkin is going to say but he was sure it’s his fault. Is Snufkin about to leave to be with the giants because he likes them more? Of course, he is. Moomin is dreadfully boring compared to that of giants. ‘My father.” Moomin blames himself for the Joxter’s leaving and that’s what’s made him not alright, he’s sure. “He said horrible things. I pushed that on to you because I was upset. I shouldn’t’ve blamed you when I said that I was trying to defend you. That was rotten of me.” They stay silent.

Moomin starts crying. He mentally notes that he’s cried quite a bit this year. Snufkin places a reassuring hand on his back, slowly wrapping it around Moomin’s waist—as best he can, that is. Moomintroll is larger than Snufkin has arm length.

“Snufkin,” Moomin tempts, regretting what he hasn’t even said yet. “Remember last summer? Not the one this year, the one before it.”

“Hm, yes, I do.”

“Remember when we were laying in that field of flowers?”

“After we made crowns of marigolds and zinnias?”

“Yes, at dusk.”

“I do.”

Moomin gulps. “Remember when we were dozing off?”

Snufkin stays quiet but Moomin can feel his hand grip his fur.

“I love— WHOA!” Moomin’s line pulls.

Snufkin springs into action. Moomin is understandably stronger than his friend but the extra help is greatly appreciated. 

Moomin and Snufkin lug a rather large fish to Moominhouse. That’s an understatement. The fish is very obviously either the Mameluke or something much like it. Snufkin is confident that the giants will appreciate it.

“Moomintroll!” Snorkmaiden yells, grabbing his paws away from the fish as the round Moominhouse, causing Snufkin to fall from the weight of the fish. Moomin tugs his hands away from her and helps Snufkin up.

“Hello, Snorkmaiden,” he greets plainly, continuing to walk. She doesn’t seem to take and hint and speaks for so long about nothing until they reach the giants.

“Oh, whoa-ah!” Landgrave exclaims, making Moomin’s ears throb.

“Good job, boys,” Moominmamma says, taking the fish. She lifts it without any additional help. “Snufkin, could you help me prepare? Moomin, you can come to but this fish will be gross still.” Moomin shakes his head. Snufkin follows her in.

Landgrave, careful to not obstruct any part of the valley, sits down. Denver continues to stand. Landgrave speaks. “Moomintroll! We’ve heard much of you, how about you tell us about yourself?” Moomin can understand the giants’ tongue more, but he’s positive that Landgrave changed some vowels to match British English.

Moomin still finds it stressful to yell. He asks Sniff to get the megaphone for him. Sniff obliges and Moomin begins what others assume to be a tale of his grand adventures but he surprises them, as evident from their faces, as he says, “I’m not much outside of time with Snufkin.” 

“Moomintroll!” Snorkmaiden swats at his shoulder. “Don’t say such things!”

“Gosh, Moomin,” the Joxter says, making Moomin freeze. He did not hear him coming.

Moomin shrugs and gives the microphone to Little My, clearly evident that he knows she doesn’t need it and sits on the porch. 

“Moominpappa,” the Joxter holds out his hand toward Pappa, “nice to see you.” Moominpappa laughs, lifting his hand for what Moomin assumes to be a handshake. It is not. Pappa clenches his fist into a ball and socks the Joxter across the face.

“Don’t be brusque to my boy.”

Moomin gets up and walks to the stairs, abandoning whatever is happening to his family.

He ends up in the guest room without a window, where he likes to end up when he doesn’t want to be found. He actually wants to be found by one person, but they never look for him. It’s Snufkin.


	13. The Joxter becomes a tiny bit refutable.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Joxter becomes a tiny bit refutable.

Moomin hears a light knocking on the door to the room. “Moomin?” he hears. It sounds like Snufkin but is not him. “It’s, uh, the Joxter.” Moomin groans very loudly.

“No!”

“Son, please come out.”

Moomin remains quiet and feels like throwing himself off the roof. He pushes the thought back, knowing that it would upset all his friends.

The door clicks open. “Moomintroll, I came to apologize. I wasn’t thinking and I assumed something about you I shouldn’t have. That punch form your father was a real… reminder that people feel. Care to tell me what’s actually going on?”

“I’m empty all the time and food is overwhelming. Go away.”

The Joxter nods, making no attempt to leave. “The giants, they know how to help with this stuff.”

“You’ve met them?”

“Yes.” He doesn’t elaborate.

They speak softly, the Joxter not looking into Moomin’s eyes, until Moomin is lulled to sleep. He decides that the Joxter’s voice isn’t so bad.


	14. Who Moomin thinks is Snufkin sings The Old Dun Cow.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who Moomin thinks is Snufkin sings The Old Dun Cow.

Moomin awakes to a soft humming. He breathes in through his snout and smells grass and old-lady-floral like Mrs. Fillyjonk likes to wear. He breathes out and smacks his lips, tasting the dryness one has after a nap. His eyes open, seeing a brilliant sky full of stars. Everything on the ground looked eerily well lit.

The humming fades into singing. “...down in the cellar, where the fire isn’t there, we have a gay old spree…” Moomin could recognize that voice in pits of hell: Snufkin. Snufkin seemed to have some sort of Irish accent when singing the song. He rolls over to where he assumes Snufkin is and is rewarded with the sigh of his friend gazing softly at him. There’s a certain… distance Snufkin has. His eyes are not the way they are supposed to be. They’re dark and empty, pupils slit. Moomin had only seen his eyes this way a few times, they were mostly rounded when he could catch a glimpse at him.

The first time was when they met. The second time was when the Groke about froze them to death. The third was when the Joxter was yelling. It sent shivers down his spine to see them narrow. Was he mad or afraid now?

“Moomin?” a voice that is not the right one says but it comes out of Snufkin’s mouth. It’s deep and heavy.

“Snufkin?” Moomin tries but it comes out a gasp.

“Moomin, son, are you alright?” The voice is panicked and Moomin starts sweating.


	15. They are told they're about to go sailing.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They are told they're about to go sailing.

“What good does it do to wallow in here?” Moominpappa slams the door shut behind him, startling the boys from their slumber. They quickly scramble away from each other. “Time for an adventure!”

“What about the giants?” Snufkin asks, trying to pull his hat over his eyes. He grabs the air. “Will they be joining us?”

“Why, yes! A seafaring exploration! One fit for a small Moomin gathering but the giants have informed me they are tall enough to just… walk wherever we’re going. It’ll be fun! Let’s get a move on!” Pappa stands triumphantly for a second then runs out of the door.

Snufkin and Moomin share a moment of silence before bursting out laughing. Snufkin grabs Moomin’s paw and leads him into his room. “Let’s get you ready. Want my help with packing?”

“I’m a strong and proud Moomin! Of course, I need help.” They laugh again. It seems today is better.


	16. Moomin thinks some things and makes a list.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moomin thinks some things and makes a list.

Moomin and Little My travel behind the group before they reach the beach, giving Snufkin someone to catch up with. Little My is stuck describing a berry the entire venture as per a dare from Moomin. She chooses a banana. Moomin just about smacked her. She says rude things as well as very practical things, earning a strange reaction from Snufkin.

“Now, hold on, My, what did you just say?” Snufkin asks.

Little My laughs loudly before saying, “Why? Wanna try it out?” Moomin trips her, trying to get her to shut up, but just ends up propelling her forward. Moomin catches the confused then mortified look on Snufkin’s face.

Moomin grabs his paw and they walk behind everything, just like they always do.

The giants were already lounging near the beach, Moomin mistaking Denvir for a tree again. Landgrave was a little harder to miss. Moomin compiled everything he knew and observed about the giants one night and made a list.

Landgrave:  
∙ Taller than Denvir _is that how you spell the name?_  
∙ Porcelain skin  
∙ Raven hair  
∙ Eyes like pits  
∙ Pointy ears  
∙ Nose like the Joxter’s, forehead bare  
∙ Talks a lot  
∙ Understands much more than most in the valley  
∙ _I wonder what his insides look like? Are they also large or composed of small, small organs? How big were the folds in their brain?_  
∙ No canines

Denvir: _wasn’t there an… iskin in there at one point?_  
∙ Skin like a barren tree trunk  
∙ Some parts of hands are caked in mud like Snufkin has sometimes  
∙ No fur on his hands  
∙ Eyes are a lurid yellow, relaxed like Snufkin’s  
∙ Green hair  
∙ There’s just… moss in his hair with flowers growing in it  
∙ The uncleanliness of Snufkin  
∙ Quiet but his voice is gorgeous like Snufkin’s  
∙ Fangs. The implications of said fangs are that they hunt for food! With their mouths! Which means there are prey just as big as them! And maybe even predators!  
∙ Takes control of situations and thinks when silence is given like Snufkin   
∙ He’s so amazing and it makes Moomin’s head swirl

Moomin, upon walking with Snufkin hand-in-hand, thinks about how much he enjoys thinking of Denvir. He gets distracted and trips.

“Moomin!” Snufkin yelps, tripping with him. Little My looks back to them, in a pile as they are, and laughs.

Moomin laughs, too.


	17. The giants are in love and Moomin gets confused.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The giants are in love and Moomin gets confused.

“Moominpappa, what if we swim ahead of you?” Landgrave suggests. It only dawns on Moomin just then that Snufkin will be going on this trip, too.

“Well, sure, Good Lad!” Moominpappa answers. “Just swim to where you want to bring us!” Landgrave nods excitedly and jumps into the water. 

Moomin looks around him and notices that the Joxter is gone.

The dread sinks in quite fast as they are hit with a large wave of water from the giant’s excursion. Denvir timidly joins Landgrave. Moomin wonders what relation they are to each other. Certainly not relatives, they’re different species.

“Snuff?”

“Yes, Moomintroll?”

“How do the giants know each other?”

Snufkin pauses to think, tapping his own hand expectantly. “They met when they were around 20. Landgrave was 20 at least, so that would make Denvir 16, maybe. A few inches taller than us, as they told me. I do not know how to calculate an inch, but I’m taking their word for it. Landgrave was just being a reckless gremlin in the forest and Denvir noticed.” He looks out to the water, watching Moominmamma try to balance very fragile plates onto a boat. “Then they fell in love. Simple as that, really.” Moomin nods. He feels disappointed. Moomin’s eyes shoot open.

_Oh! I must be in love with Denvir! I do think of him often, do I not? About as much as I think of Snufkin._

“That’s lovely,” Snorkmaiden sighs behind them. Moomin hadn’t realized she was near them at all. “Snufkin, would you like to help me collect shells?” Why wasn’t she asking him?

“No, thank you, Floren.” Moomin remembers that sometimes Snufkin will call Snorkmaiden that. “I’m going to stay here with Moomintroll.” Her nickname and his full name? Was something wrong? Did Moomin do something wrong?

“Alright, have fun!”

Moomin admits to himself that he is very jealous. Of Snufkin. Of Snorkmaiden. Snufkin was being soft with her. Snorkmaiden invited him to go with her instead of Moomin. Why were they being so weird lately?

“Snorkmaiden and I have been talking.” Oh, no. Oh, no, oh no, oh no. They’re dating, aren’t they? That’s why it’s so strange. “She’s trying to be less… dismissive and submissive. She wants to take control of her life and wants to understand others in not such an optimistic way. She told me she understands that optimism is wonderful but it doesn’t feel good to get duked. And she helped me realize that, uh…” he stammers off. He was about to break the news to Moomin, he was sure of it. “It’s okay to love being here in the valley.” Oh! That’s much better. Moomin smiles and places his head on Snufkin’s shoulder.

“I’m glad you love it here, too.”


	18. Snufkin's a cat.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snufkin's a cat.

“This is not at all frightening!” Pappa tries to reassure his family and child’s friends. It was indeed frightening. The giants could just punt them into the sky very quickly and they’d never see it coming. The giants are full-on taking strokes in swimming, making the water quite threatening.

Snorkmaiden has a necklace of small, cream-colored shells with a white cord attaching them together and she just keeps fiddling with it and every time she touches it, it makes a clinking noise and it’s driving Moomin insane. His ears twitch when the sound occurs, which Moomin assumes is not at all comfortable for Snufkin. They’ve situated themselves in the boat, trailing behind the giants. Snufkin is between Moomin and Snorkmaiden, Moomin resting his head on Snufkin’s shoulder akin to how it was done at the beach.

Little My is gnawing on a fishbone. It makes a horrible grinding noise. It’s like she’s biting down directly after Snorkmaiden clinks her necklace like a beat.

Snufkin takes notice and starts humming, the disgusting noises guiding him. Even Mamma is tapping her foot. Moomin can’t stand it. Not Snufkin, no, Snufkin is doing amazing, but everyone else--yes, including his Mamma, but he’s not upset with her--is being hellish. Clink, grind, tap tap tap tap, mmmm. Moomin can’t even take his focus away because when Snufkin hums, Snufkin’s body decides to vibrate with the pitches. Snorkmaiden clinks twice and Snufkin giggles, shaking Moomintroll.

“Snorkmaiden, My, Snufkin, that was lovely, thank you,” Moominmamma praises, lightly clapping her hands. Moomin is thankful that Mamma put a stop to it. He grabs Snufkin’s paw, studying the fur growing on it. It’s curious.

His thumbs rub against the fur, revealing a darker shade of fur, then with the fur, returning to its regular color. It’s scruffy from its lack of grooming. It’s darker than his hair… really darker. Almost as if Snufkin had just dyed his hair. That was not the case because Moomin had asked him plenty of times. He kept petting his paw until he heard Snufkin purr before he immediately pushed Moomin off. It was a soft purr. Snufkin pulled his hat down and slumped backward. Moomin took the cue to not do that anymore. At least in front of his family, he decided. He feels proud of making Snufkin happy.


	19. Moomin wants to die.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moomin wants to die.

Landgrave stops away in front of them on an island. The island is much bigger than the hattifattener one but Moomin can barely see. It’s already nightfall and even Snufkin is asleep. Moomin is too exhausted to relax. Moomin just decides to encourage his father to keep rowing.

“Look, they’ve stopped, we’re almost there.” Pappa grunts and rows with all his might.

The water is pretty when it’s dark. It blends in with the sky, making a wonderful abyss. Moomin could just sink into there and never come back. He wants to. He considers standing up but then he would disrupt the sleeping mumrik in this lap. He curls some of Snufkin’s hair around his fingers, trying to push down the urge to drown. It’s magnificent. The water is so inviting. The stars and galaxies reflect perfectly. Moomin wants that to be how he dies. Maybe he can ensure that now.

Moomin almost pushes Snufkin off of him but Snufkin mumbles something in his sleep. What a cute voice. Perhaps he’ll die another time.


	20. Moomin gets paranoid.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moomin gets paranoid.

Moomintroll taps Snufkin’s shoulder, causing him to sit awake and alert. Moomin admires how quickly he changes his disposition.

“Moomin, good morning.” He looks around. It is not morning, Moomin notes but doesn’t say. “Dusk, I mean. Oh! We’re here. Let’s go!” Snufkin grabs Moomin’s hand with more energy than Moomin remembers ever having in his life. They walk off the boat and help Moominpappa with the rope.

“Good job, boys. Do you think we should awake the ladies?”

Moomin nods before changing his mind. It would not be in their favor if they were to wake Little My.

Snufkin jerks his head toward the slumbering giants. “Looks like it’s time to rest. We should set up camp.”

Snufkin walks to the boat to get some of their stuff. Mainly two tents and a few pillows and blankets

Pappa claps a hand on Moomin’s shoulder. “Odd fellow you’ve got there.”

Moomin blushes. “What?” What did he mean… _you’ve got there?_

“Odd fellow.”


	21. They arrive on the island.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They arrive on the island.

They sleep peacefully, Moomintroll dreaming of the icy waters and how easy it would be to just… 

“Wake up, lazybones!” Little My bangs on the side of the tent. “Up and at ‘em!”

Moomin decides that it’s not worth it to get up, it’s so warm in the tent and cold out there. He can see her silhouette walking away. The tent zipper is tugged at and he’s presented with a plate of crackers.

“Moomin?” Snorkmaiden asks, pushing the snack toward him. He nods, the feeling of nausea absent. She ducks inside and sits next to him. She’s still wearing the necklace. She taps two shells together thrice before speaking. “I’ve been thinking…” _That’s what we all do_ , Moomin thinks, wishing he would be left alone. “What if we got back together?” This again?

She has already asked him this. She asked a month after they broke up. Last year when Snufkin left for winter. Today. Why did she want this? Him? He’s not worth the trouble it takes to ask this. Plus, she broke up with him but that didn’t mean she can resume the relationship when she pleases! It’s his decision, too. “No, Snorkmaiden.”

“Moomin! We’re the only two compatible souls in the valley! How do you think our future will be if we’re not in them together?” Her fur is light green.

“We can be in each other’s future without being in a relationship.”

“But I don’t want that!” She’s whining like a child. “Is there someone else?!”

Moomin realizes that his tiredness has faded into a rage. “No! I just don’t want to be with you.”

Her face drops from pleading to abashed. Her fur is now a light blue but her face is devoid of much color, leaving it white. “I understand. I wouldn’t want to be with me either.”

“No, that’s not what I meant…” Moomin tries to keep her with him so she doesn’t freak out but she leaves anyway, out the tent flap, out of his line of sight. He hears consultation from Moominmamma and sniffles coming from a distraught snork.


	22. Moomin and Pappa talk.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moomin and Pappa talk.

“Where’s Snufkin gone off to?” Moominpappa asks, fishing with his son. Moomin sighs.

“Dunno, Pappa. He doesn’t tell me much.”

“He oughta.”

Moomin agrees, Snufkin has ought to tell him he’s gone off sometimes, despite Little My’s claims of, _He tells you everything_. He does warn him occasionally but those are few and far.

They sit in the boat, waiting. Moomin doesn’t know what he’s waiting for. He hopes some fish but he knows it’s something else. He thinks about the giants. Landgrave and Denvir, significant others. He adds that to the list he’s made of them. He thinks about how quickly they ate the fish. Really quickly. It was a small fish to their standards but Moomin and his family could live awhile off of it. It was impressive to witness but it makes Moomin wonder about things he assumes no one should wonder about. How do their digestive systems work? How do Snufkin and Little My’s digestive systems work? How much do the giants have to eat?

“Moomintroll, what’s wrong?” Pappa asks.

Moomin thinks. What _is_ wrong? Which of the many miserable things should he share with his father? Why can’t he get better? “A lot.”

“Snufkin?”

Moomin thinks. Perhaps it is Snufkin. Maybe it’s because Snufkin leaves every winter. Maybe it’s because he was late that one time. “Maybe. I don’t really know.”

“The same thing been bothering you?”

“Mhm,” Moomin mumbles. “I’d quite like it to go away.”

“I do, too.”


	23. Moomin wants to get help and Snufkin is excited.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moomin wants to get help and Snufkin is excited.

“Thank you, dears,” Moominmamma greets as she puts the bucket of fish near a campfire she made. Moomin looks for Snufkin. He cannot see him. “Moomin, the giants and I have been talking. I know you don’t like people to tell others your problems but I just had to. They are very charming and convincing. They say they know how to help!”

Moomin’s heart flutters. So the Joxter was right? They know how to help? “Oh?” is all he can manage.

“Yes, they’re just over there!” She points to the two and Moomin notes how far this walk would be. Not too far, he decides.

Moomin makes his way toward the giants. The flowers are dull but beautiful on this island. The sand is light, both in color and gentleness, and the trees are a dampened tropical. The sand feels bad on his fur but he disregards it.

“Moomintroll!” He’s startled by a barreling mumrik. It’s Snufkin. He looks so happy it makes Moomin want to cry. “I found this very interesting cave! You must see it.” Moomin wants to see the mentioned cave but he’s on a mission.

“I would love to! But not right now. I need to talk to the giants.”

“Need company on your walk?”

“Yes, please.”

They walk, Snufkin practically buzzing with excitement. The cave he speaks of must be wonderful.


	24. Moomin tries to open up.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moomin tries to open up.

Denvir nods, Landgrave does nothing.

“All the waiting I did was useless! Everything I did to try and make myself feel better blew up in my face! It still does!” Landgrave’s eyes bore into Moomin’s own. This is very uncomfortable. “I don’t know how to fix it!”

“Have you spoken to him about this?” Denvir asks. It makes Moomin realize that he was very afraid of the power these giants hold.

“A little, yes! But it didn’t fix anything!”

“It doesn’t have to,” Landgrave comforts. It works. Not everything has to make him feel better.

“I just wish it would!”

“That might be all you can do. Wishing does take you a long way. How about you tell us whenever something upsets you? We can help you work through it.”

“Please!” Moomin shouts. The realization of his desperation catches up to him and he begins to cry. Landgrave lets him hug his hand. Moomin decides he should talk about the previous night on the boat. “During yesterday night whilst we traveled in the boat, I was awake. The water looked inviting. I just wanted to… drown in it. I was going to but Snufkin started to stir in his sleep and I couldn’t do it, not when he would care.”

“What that sort of concept is referred to as intrusive thoughts. It’s very normal. The trick is to not ignore it. They only get worse when you do such a thing. Intrusive thoughts can be scary sometimes but they don’t mean you’re a bad person or something is wrong with you. It happens to everyone,” Landgrave informs. Moomin feels a weight being lifted off his heart; his gut. It’s refreshing to feel lighter. “Do you have any other things on your mind?”


	25. Moomin's content.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moomin's content.

The sky is mixed with colors of deep blue and purple, reflecting the state of the universe. The stars are shining their hearts out and Moomin couldn’t be more satisfied. Not happy, no, but content. Moomin’s throat is sore from speaking with the giants.

“Moomin, Snufkin’s here.” Moomin looks to where Landgrave is mentioning and finds the referenced person.

“Moomintroll!” Snufkin shouts, finally having calmed down from his early state. His tail betrayed his aloof aura, wagging.

“Snufkin!” Moomin yells back. He is excited to see his friend. He doubted he might be. He spoke so poorly of Snufkin previously. Not on purpose or to hate him but from the truth and how things hurt. Landgrave sets him down. Snufkin runs toward him and eventually wraps him in a hug.

“Do you still want to see the cave?”

Moomin nods.


	26. The title is hinted at.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The title is hinted at.

Moomintroll notices how the greenery becomes more vibrant as one nears the center of the island. It’s pretty but not soft pretty as it was before.

Snufkin is silent, hands in his pockets. Moomin remembers when Snufkin sewed the pockets onto his tunic. 

It was a boring and frustrating day. It was too hot to do much and one’s muscles became weary quickly, like a famine. Snufkin was sitting in Moominhouse without his tunic on, just his button-up. Moomin was lying on the floor, reading a book about wheat. It was really about a girl who found refuge on a farm only to meet her future wife but it was also about wheat. The romance was really subtext. Snufkin had borrowed some of Moominmamma’s sewing supplies because he had run out of thread and Mamma refused to let him sew with the needle he carries around. It was rusty. Snufkin was humming as he worked. The tune was light but sorrowful and its end was eerie.

“Moomintroll, look,” Snufkin stops and points to a hole in the ground. “It’s not a big drop,” he says, inching toward the cave entrance. Moomin follows suit.

It isn’t a big drop but it is a painful one. Moomin’s foot rams directly into what he can only assume to be a large rock. His investigation proves him to be wrong but only slightly. It’s a crystal. “Whoa,” he says, tugging Snufkin over to see. The night sky makes the purple of the crystal reflect almost a rainbow.

“That’s impressive.” Moomin looks around to see if there are any others. There are. “There are lots of crystals all over this cave but that’s not the important part.”

“Oh?” Moomin asks, genuinely interested. Snufkin only smiles and leads them further into the cave. Moomin realizes it’s damp. He can hear the slight drip of water somewhere in the distance. He takes a deep whiff of the air to calm himself. Getting hurt made him lose his trust in this venture.

Snufkin’s hand finds Moomin’s own, regaining the faith he had before. Snufkin speaks when the smell of mildew becomes fragrant. “It’s very pretty down here.”

They walk to a smaller division of the cave, away from the rest. A light found its way inside of the spot, illuminating a small patch of moss with moss roses. They are very pretty. Moomin notes where they are and how they got here, wanting to revisit at some point.

The two exit the cave, looking over the gems as they go. They reenter the campsite after a long trek and settle down for supper with the family. 

“Did you talk to the giants, dear?” Moominmamma asks, pouring Moomin a bowl of soup. The tomato smell makes Moomin’s stomach churn. He grabs a cucumber sandwich as well. He nods his head and sits next to Little My. She shuffles away.

“What are you doing, Little My?” Moomin confusedly asks. 

“Get kicked, swamp-boy,” Little My threatens and walks off, taking Snorkmaiden with her.

Moomin looks to Mamma for help but she just turns her head away. He knows what this is about: this morning. He was rude and inconsiderate, and although his answer wasn’t either, he was still at fault.


	27. The Mymble's kids have names and Moomin wants to die.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Mymble's kids have names and Moomin wants to die.

Moomin leaves Snufkin with his family to pursue Snorkmaiden and Little My. His dinner is finished. He finds the two girls near a large group of moss-covered trees, Snorkmaiden sitting down, combing her hair with her fingers, her fur fluctuating between pink and purple. Moomin knows such colors mean she is upset and sad and something he can’t decipher nor did she ever tell him: pink. Little My was biting logs and eating grass.

“Moomin, I don’t want to hear it.” Snorkmaiden stares him down.

“Snorkmaiden, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you upset. I just… I’m not interested in you.”

“Why? I’m ugly? Stupid?”

“Snorkmaiden! How dare you? You’re clever and lovely. I’m not interested in you because… I’m more interested in the likes of… Denvir.”

Little My screams and chokes on the grass she was chomping. Snorkmaiden flushes a reverent orange: excited. “Oh! Oh, my! Moomintroll, that’s amazing!”

“What?” Moomin says, honestly confused. Why was it _amazing_?

“Tell us how you figured this out!” Little My yells, ramming a log into a tree. Truly a gore-like thing to do. Returning a dead body to an alive one. Gross.

“Well… uh…” Moomin feels unnaturally hot. This is embarrassing. “His eyes are very enrapturing. They’re tranquil. He looks lovely in green. His voice is very lavish and relaxing. He’s caring and one with nature.”

Snorkmaiden and Little My share a look that makes Moomin panic. Did he say something false?

Snorkmaiden giggles. “You know something funny?” Moomin shakes his head. “There’s someone else with very tranquil eyes. Always wears green. Has a relaxed voice. Caring and very much one with nature.”

Moomin tilts his head. “What? How is that funny?”

“Because you’re already obsessed with him!” Little My laughs. Moomin, as one could guess, is confused. He’s not obsessed with anyone.

“Moomin, could you do me a favor?” Snorkmaiden kindly asks.

“Sure,” Moomin answers, almost as a question.

“Why do you admire Snufkin?”

Moomin hesitates. He doesn’t understand what Snufkin has to do with any of this. “He’s smart and daring. He’s wise and kind. His disposition has the aura of confidence and calmness.”

“Do you think his eyes share that disposition?”

“Yes.”

“Doesn’t he looks nice in green?”

“Of course. He always wears it and he always looks nice.”

“Isn’t his voice leisurely and charming?”

“Yes.”

“Wouldn’t you say he cares for you and others?”

“Yes, he cares for every creature.”

“He’s known for his love of nature and skills in it, correct?”

“And his harmonica skills, yes.”

“So, everything you love about Denvir is, in turn, what you love about Snufkin.”

“What?!”

“What makes your feelings toward Denvir different than your feelings for Snufkin?”

Moomin raises his index finger for a rebuttal but the words sink in. What does differ about his feelings? He surely doesn’t think Denvir is above Snufkin in any way, quite the opposite. Moomin believes that Snufkin is worth more than Denvir. He realizes that such a revelation might be upsetting but now is not the time! Denvir is wonderful, yes, but Snufkin is… “I like Snufkin?”

“I can’t decide that, Moomin. Do you?”

The truth sets in quickly, far too quickly. He does. Very much. He nods and gets up, ready to run.

“Moomin!” Little My interrupts his escape. “Don’t tell him yet. It’s going to be too much for him. Especially this close to winter.”

Moomin almost forgot. This week has been so eventful that he completely blocked it out. Snufkin will be gone soon. Probably with the giants, no doubt. “Could I just stay here and talk with you guys then?”

Little My nods peacefully. She looks peaceful a lot, Moomin notices. She usually was just angry. It’s nice to see that she has more going on than just unbridled rage.

“My?” Moomin asks, not expecting an answer. He just wishes to speak to the wind and let it carry his message. Little My grunts from a tree she’s scurried up. “Do your siblings have names?”

Little My laughs quietly but her hitched breath gives her amusement away. “Yeah, Moomin. They do. It’s rather surprising, I would imagine.”

Moomin wishes for knowledge he will never use so he seeks out an answer. “Just start listing them, oldest to youngest.”

“Why?”

“Sometimes it’s nice to have noise to drown out so you can think,” Snorkmaiden chimes in.

“Alright, then. The Mymble’s oldest is Mymble Jr. or just the Mymble’s Daughter. We call her Mymble, though, and the Mymble is referred to as Mymblemor or Mamma, in our case. Then there’s Firentroll, Rikosmaiden, Podj, Magdalene, me, Mytar, Mymmy--whose real name is just Mymble, as well--, Cobham, Tegeltroll, Oppi, Snufkin. There’s Tie, Tram, and Tietratroll, all triplets. Sommsa, Helie, Kuva, Tauti Maiden--with a space-- and Sjuksdom--who we all call Dom--are twins. Goramaiden, Hurme, Purdea, Colette, Lady in Waiting Ewe--yes, that is her name, we just call her Lady--, Boyd, Virasto. The next are all under ten, by the way. Tunnutroll, Muk, Sivistymätön--or just Sivi--, Nätti, Constance, Modmaiden, Amitiel, Wibaetroll, Maramare, and Ashenhurst--the youngest. Ten of ‘em are the Joxter’s, believe it or not. Weirdest thing. Two of them are demi-gods but they’re both city-slickers. Lady in Waiting Ewe is one of the most annoying creatures I have ever met, which is saying something. She acts like she’s some esteemed hemulen. It’s stupid.” Moomin only hears Snufkin and the Joxter. He focuses on Snufkin.

“How… how do you remember that? All of that?” Snorkmaiden asks, wringing her hands together. Moomin looks to her. She has the necklace on still. Little My sighs loudly.

“It’d be rude not to know my own siblings.”

Moomin decides to change the topic. No one complains until his choice of conversation is, “Where’d you get that necklace, Snorkmaiden?”

Snorkmaiden turns that pink-ish color again but it’s coupled with an orange tint. Whatever the feeling is, it’s excited… until it isn’t. It quickly changes to a sour green, flushing the pink out. “I’d rather not say.” Little My stays quiet. Perhaps she respects Snorkmaiden too much or perhaps she’s involved with the existence of the necklace. Moomin decides not to pry, as it seems the concept made Snorkmaiden feel very strongly.

Moomin forgets himself. He’s riddled with guilt. Instead of speaking, he listens to the ocean. Calming, inviting. Mysterious. Easy to get lost in. He can hear his name being called. How peculiar.

The being attempting to gain his attention was none other than Little My. “Moomintroll?” she asks.

“Yes, Little My?”

“You okay, bud? You seem out of it.” Yes. He’s been quite out of it. How kind of her to notice. He’s angry. Almost. So close to being angry. 

“I am. Now, leave me be.” He stands up and sits closer to the water.

“Moomin, you’re not wearing a swimsuit,” Snorkmaiden informs him. Astute observation, Moomintroll thinks.

“Yeah, no dip, Sherlock.”

“Who?” Little My asks.

“Detective.”

“Okay,” Snorkmaiden slowly says. Moomin closes his eyes. “We’re going to leave, Moomin. Be safe.”

Moomin sighs. What does she know? Nothing, that’s it. He can hear their soft footsteps leave. He doesn’t keep track of the time and sits there, wishing for the sea to claim him. It would be too obvious if he threw himself in, would it not? Plus, he didn’t know if he wanted to die. He just sort of did and it was convincing enough. He won’t, he promised himself. He won’t die like this. The sand feels horrible on his fur.


	28. Moomin gets a goodbye letter from Snufkin.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moomin gets a goodbye letter from Snufkin.

Moomin opens his eyes to the tent’s ceiling. It’s not really a ceiling. It’s where the sides meet to a point. When did he get here? He doesn’t care, really, and won’t bother to ask. Life goes on or whatever. Should he even bother to get up? It’s not like he’s doing much help adventuring or cooking. He doesn’t fit into this journey.

“Moomintroll?” Mamma asks from outside the tent. Why does he have to even talk? “Just here to bring you breakfast.” Oh, no. Not this again. How long has he been asleep for them to think he’s incapable of even getting up? Did Snorkmaiden or Little My tell Mamma about his crash yesterday? Jerks! Horrible, nasty creatures. It’s none of their business! She opens the tent flap and presents some cooked egg whites. The Plainest of Foods. Moomin turns away from them and Mamma sets them down. “Do come out sometime, dear. Sun’s good for you, the giants say.” The giants. He updates the list to not include anything about Snufkin or his false affections for Denvir. Thinking of Snufkin makes his stomach turn. He’s not really sure why he feels sick from the thoughts. Mamma leaves. Moomin continues his slumber. It’s not really much of a good sleep, he’s not getting any more energized.

There are loud crunches from outside of the tent. He doesn’t know how long it’s been since Mamma came around. It’s the giants.

“Moomin? We want to talk.” It’s Landgrave, respectively. “I understand that you aren’t feeling very well lately, differently from how you’ve been feeling altogether. We thought it would be better for you if we broke the news to you.” What? What? What? “Snufkin’s gone. His tent, his supplies. He’s not just… taking a break. He left a letter. No one’s read it yet because we wanted you to read it first.” This is really the worst thing in the world. Snufkin’s gone for the winter. Moomin starts crying. Sobbing. It’s devastating. He’s gone. At the worst time. Did he swim back to shore? Take a boat? Was he _building_ a boat all this time? Landgrave speaks up again. “Here. It’s outside of your tent.” Moomin uses whatever energy he’s been saving up to grab the letter and by Tove is it exhausting. The letter is equally devastating because it is Snufkin. It’s his essence. His writing. His thoughts. Him thinking about Moomin.

_My Moomintroll,_

_This trip has been… not good. You were no part of the rotten time I had, however. You’re the best thing about it. But between the giants neediness and getting pestered by Little My and your father, I’ve decided to begin my travel south. I know, Moomin, that you will be sad. I know and I’m sorry. I always make you sad but now I’m abandoning you on an island. What a great friend am I! I know this is horrible and I’ve been horrible to you. You shouldn’t forgive me. I don’t deserve it. I hope you won’t dwell on this. I have an outlet, unlike you. I write music and travel and those help me. Maybe you should find your own outlet? Like painting or carving or writing stories. Not like your Pappa’s memoirs, no, but like short stories or novels. Interesting and exciting stuff. You are good at carving! I know you are. I’m not sure about your artistic talents pertaining to drawing, though I’m sure you’re amazing. Maybe you could combine all three things. You’re a jack of all trades, strangely. Between Moominpappa’s insistent, “Moomin’s should be--” and Moominmamma’s… servitude, you’ve been exposed to two things: adventuring and helping others. Now, don’t get me wrong, I don’t know everything about you. I don’t know what authority figures you’ve had in your life. All I know is that you’re a very talented and well-versed Moomintroll and I love you. I’ve found a boat that seems good enough to row to shore. Stay warm, dove._

_Snufkin._

Moomin’s heart is very conflicted. One part of him is very happy, the other is angry. Almost, like he always is. He rereads it, over and over again. The happiness disperses when his brain finally stops filtering it so he could only read, “ _My Moomintroll… I’m sorry... I love you... Stay warm, dove... Snufkin._ ” He notices the desperation in Snufkin’s writing. His apologetic self-deprecation. How mean has Moomin been to Snufkin to make him feel so sour? Snufkin must hate him.


	29. A nightmare ensues.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A nightmare ensues.

“Oh! My Moomintroll!” Moominmamma rushes to meet him. After reading the note, he fell asleep, slumbering for quite some time. He awoke with an initiative to cry a lot but with the comfort of anyone else. She grabs his arms and he deflects her touch, turning it into a tight hug. The sky is beautiful. It’s daybreak, the sun coloring the sky with as much talent as she can. Yellows and oranges and pinks. It almost makes Moomin frightened. Pink at night is a sailor's delight, but pink in the morning is a sailor’s warning. The clouds sure are nice, though. 

“Mamma!” he cries out. She pats his back, whispering reassurances. He’s done being sad, he’s decided. Time to be angry. Not with her, he couldn’t. He needs to complain to the giants and get mad at Snufkin. He needs to feel these emotions. “Could you walk me to the giants, wherever they are?”

“Of course, dear,” she answers clutching his forearm like a lady in need of a beau. Moomin supposes her knees aren’t what they used to be. Her fur isn’t white anymore. It’s grey. Not a dark grey, but an old grey. Moomin feels horrible that his mother is aging. He wishes she could be young forever and never be sad about how she looks. Moomin is assuming she is sad about her appearance, but maybe she’s not. Maybe she loves herself no matter how she looks. An admirable trait Moomin has completely made up.

Their walk is blissfully uneventful, save the moment Moomin fell and cried into the sand. Mamma only whispered nonsense to calm him down while he recollected himself. They make it to the giants but they quickly realize the giants aren’t up to helping.

The bags under their eyes are prominent and even Landgrave eyes have adapted the “cool-guy look”, as Little My likes to put it. They’re both awkwardly sitting toward the sea, maybe attempting to cool off. Mamma squeezes Moomintroll’s hand and leaves.

“Denvir? Landgrave? What’s going on?”

“Nothing. You needn’t concern yourself with our woe. We’re supposed to be aiding you. All it is is our disappointment with Snufkin’s leaving. Please, tell us what you’ve come here for. We’ll be happy to assist.” Moomin notices the lack of trying in Landgrave’s voice. He very much sounds completely like a giant now, in Moomin’s limited opinion.

“Oh, it’s selfish!” Moomin decides, uncomfortable with sharing his negative opinion to two quite in-the-dumps creatures.

“No, no. Refusing to help you would be selfish.”

Moomin hates to argue but he’s nearly bursting with anger. If only it was truly anger. “It’s not that I can’t believe Snufkin would leave like this. It’s apparent that he can do as he likes and this sort of departure seems on character! The problem is that he left at such a vulnerable time! And I keep feeling worse because I feel as though if I told him to stay that it would be selfish but I don’t understand why I can’t be selfish when I’m like this. When I’m so broken. It’s unfair.” 

Denvir laughs. “You’re acting like a toddler.” Moomin feels embarrassed. He is, isn’t he? Like… how he did when Snufkin was late. He hasn’t changed. Hasn’t matured. He’s still an inconsiderate child.

The giants burst out in cackles. They don’t respect him, huh. They seem to be amused at his time of being distressed. How horrible Moomin must be! 

“Moomin!” Landgrave shouts. It’s not in Landgrave’s voice. It’s in… Little My’s?

Suddenly, his limbs feel heavier and his eyes feel much more puffed. 

“Moomin?” Little My’s voice asks again. It’s her secret _I care about you but I don’t want anyone else to know that_ voice. He looks back to the giants. They aren’t there. They’ve been replaced with endless dark, then light. His tent flap has opened. Little My jumps onto his stomach, causing him to lurch upward. “Wake up! We’re leaving this island. Mamma and Pappa are nearly passed out.” Oh, right. It’s almost winter. Time for hibernation. Moomin ruffles the fur tuft on his chest, attempting to wake himself up.

“Okay, okay. Will you help me get the tent packed, My?” Moomin asks before he’s efficiently thrown out of said tent. He looks to the sky, hoping his dream wouldn’t predict the future. The sky is golden, with no sense of pink. He turns his attention to Little My, who has managed to pack the entire campsite in a matter of seconds. She is a little wonder, sometimes. “Thanks, My,” he congratulates.

“Psh, nah. I want to get home. Didn’t do this for you.” She’s trying to sound humble and mean at the same time. It’s endearing.


	30. They leave the island.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They leave the island.

Upon leaving, Moomin discovers the giants left in the middle of the night. Moomin supposes that would make sense. They were only there for Snufkin. If he left, what use was the Moomin family to them?

“This reminds me of the time Snork and I were adventuring to and fro,” Snorkmaiden sighs, basking in the wonderful sunlight. It makes her shells on her necklace glimmer like they’re enchanted. She continues to tell a story, earning Little My’s full attention. They sit in the boat, Pappa lazily rowing. Moomin almost wishes he’ll fall asleep and never let them return home. All that would be waiting for them would be an empty house and Sniff, not exactly what Moomin wishes for. He wants Snufkin and the giants to be lounging around on the beach, awaiting their arrivals so Moomin could start to feel better.

Snorkmaiden squeals like a 13-year-old fangirl and points near the mainland. “Landgrave and Denvir!” shouts she.

Moominpappa mumbles, “Oh? Oh, yes, yes,” and continues rowing. Mamma simply blinks and smiles her motherly smile.

Moomintroll looks to the beach and sees two towering figures: one strikingly black and white, one green. It’s them! They stuck with them!

Little My hums and rests her face against Snorkmaiden’s arm. Her face squishes and it reminds Moomin of how small she really is. He would never, of course, tell her this. She would bite him without hesitation. _Can’t risk a My bite_ , Moomin always says.

“It was so kind of them to bring us to that island,” Mamma remarks, eyes glazed.

Stomach rumbling, Moomin thinks of cake. No reason, really. Cake’s just good, in Moomin’s opinion. Moomin knows some who do not enjoy cake and it surprises him. How can one not like cake? It’s sweet and filling! Spongy and soft! The thought of, “It’s too dry,” is completely asinine.

“Moomin, get up.” Little My kicks his side. It hurts.

“Little My!” Snorkmaiden scolds before giggling. Her tone was an impression of how Moomin used to yell Snufkin’s name. Funny indeed.

They’re stopped near the treeline and everyone’s off the boat. Moomin follows suit and is picked up by Denvir faster than he would have liked. He almost throws up but holds it down. “Goodbye, Moomin family and friends. We’re going to go talk,” Landgrave announces. They walk off, away from Moomin’s mother and father and toward the Lonely Mountains. Seeing the familiar trail makes Moomin’s stomach drop. Snufkin’s gone, he realizes once again.


	31. Moomin's guilty.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moomin's guilty.

Their conversation involved Moomin crying a total of three times for different reasons and Moomin recalling the time of Beatrice and June. “They just showed up looking for their lost sister only to find out it was Snufkin! I didn’t even know that about him.”

“It’s not your business, Moomintroll. Snufkin can share and withhold whatever information suits him,” Denvir almost whispers. He’s very much like Snufkin. Moomin wonders why Snufkin never mentioned them.

“I know that! And I feel horrible that I expected him to tell me that he’s transgender!”

“While you don’t have control over Snufkin’s choice, you still feel… betrayed?”

“Sort of,” Moomin sighs defeatedly. He does feel like Snufkin pointed the bone at him. Moomin has no idea where he got that phrase from. Maybe from Pappa. “I need to apologize to him!”

“You do.” The entire dynamic of the giants to Moomin starts to feel high and mighty, in a negative manner. Maybe it’s because of their large stature. Moomin realizes such thoughts would hurt a creature’s feelings so he keeps it to himself.


	32. Moomin thinks Little My is an okay creature for the first time.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moomin thinks Little My is an okay creature for the first time.

Moomintroll walks past a plant of viola and it reminds him of the language of flowers. He’s a little embarrassed to admit he doesn’t know it. Maybe if he pressed these flowers and showed them to Snufkin, he could help with the meaning. Yes! That’s what he’ll do! Planning ahead makes Moomin feel much more excited. His previous conversation with the giants made him realize he _really_ needs to talk with him.

He plucks the flowers carefully, admiring their delicacy. Quite charming flowers, Moomin notes. He jogs to Moominhouse, his energy rising further as the smell of cake wafts through the open window. He feels great and he’s so happy to feel this way.

“Moomin, wait--” Little My tries but Moomin won’t be stifled by her tricks today! Today is going to be good!

He stops dead in his tracks the moment he enters through the threshold. A voice speaks out from the kitchen but he daren’t look. He knows the voice. It’s Beatrice, the girl from before. Another voice chimes and he expects June. It’s not, however. It’s Snorkmaiden speaking of something Moomin could hope to never understand.

Little My tugs on his tail and drags him outside by it. “Beatrice is here with the intent to court you.”

“It’s hibernation time, My. What an inconvenient time to try to woo someone,” Moomin says, hating the day. All the energy he accumulated left him in an instance.

“The real kicker is that Snorkmaiden and she have gone into a bet to have you in courtship by the time you go to sleep. Beatrice is planning to hibernate here in Moominhouse. Snorkmaiden will, too, I think. She did last year so it’s not very strange, right? But she told Beatrice that she would be hibernating in your room once she courted you.”

“Aren’t I supposed to do the courting?”

“Traditionally but no one cares, nowadays. Snufkin will think this entire situation is quite funny, I bet.”

“I suppose,” Moomin comments, ending the conversation. “Are they baking something? The smell is very flavorsome.”

“Beatrice is making a tea cake and Snorkmaiden is making a bunch of Lilliputian pies.” Little My brakes off a chunk of wood from the veranda railing and bites down on it.

Moomin grimaces. “What are Lilliputian pies?” He plucks at some grass as he is sitting on the steps. “And why are they making two different desserts? Mamma only allows one for pre-hibernation and it’s always something pine-needle based.”

Without missing a beat, My scoffs and rolls her eyes. “Snorkmaiden says they’re just small pies.” 

Moomin affirms her annoyance with a contemplative nod and stands up.

“If I try to go up the stairs, will they talk to me?”

“Definitely.”

“Rats.”

Moomin and Little My sit in silence, watching the sunset. The giants, they told Moomin, are going to either leave for warmer weather then come back or hibernating in the mountains. Moomin warned them about the Groke--innocent as she may be--and the Lady of the Cold, making sure they stayed safe. They understood.

Moomin notices that he spends a lot of moments with My in relaxed silence. It never used to be like this. She would ridicule and annoy him to no wit’s end. She’s fun to be around now.


	33. Moomin gets courted.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moomin gets courted.

“My Moomintroll!” Snorkmaiden shouts out of the window to the porch, shocking the almost unconscious friends.

“Is something wrong?” Moomin shoots up, frantically looking around.

“Of course not! We made you a surprise!”

Moomin dreads her baking. Not that it’s bad--it is not--but because it’s made for him. Specifically for him alone. It’s overbearing. He looks to Little My for help but she just frowns. Her bun bobs slightly. The afternoon sky, not yet set but at an attempt, makes her hair bright auburn. It’s very comely and he is sure that if he told her this he would lose an arm. They both know he would mean it in a platonic way but the compliment itself would make My retch. He reluctantly stands and follows Snorkmaiden into the kitchen.

“Moomee,” Beatrice coos, brandishing a yellow dress shirt with a blue blazer. Her black pantyhose have a golden, flannel skirt that compliments her outfit nicely. It’s good apparel but it looks silly on such a childish lady as herself. The nickname makes Moomintroll feel horrible, remembering Snufkin’s letter to him. He didn’t call him Moomee but he does outside of writing. He doesn’t mention it. Snorkmaiden’s still wearing the shell necklace.

He is brought to the table. It’s already been set. He suddenly remembers his parents. “Where’s Mamma and Pappa?”

“They’re sleeping already,” Snorkmaiden answers, placing some pastries in front of him. Beatrice pours him some black coffee and gives him a choice of cream in it. He accepts. He’s then given an appropriate amount of milk with a slice of a sugar-dusted cake. Very, very different flavors to taste. The pie smells like it’s peach and blueberries, making the dark cake contrast it in the worst way. He feels sick. So many things are happening and it stresses Moomintroll out.

“I would just like some pine needles,” he mumbles. 

Pausing for a second prior, Beatrice and Snorkmaiden cry out in laughter. Beatrice doubles over. Moomin feels as if he’s being made fun of.

Beatrice places a hand on Moomin’s shoulder, prompting him to stand up and deflect the girls' affections. “I’m pretty tired,” he lies. He plays with his tail nervously, as a Moomin is to do.

“Moomintroll, _please_ ,” Beatrice bats her eyes and says melodically like a woman about to start singing in a play.

Before he yells at the two, he is reminded that if he eats one of these baked-goods, he’ll be courted. He breathes in harshly, making his lungs hitch in foreboding, and states, “I do not want to be courted.”

Snorkmaiden nods like she knew, which confuses Moomin until he remembers that she knows he loves Snufkin. Oh, no. She must’ve been protecting him from Beatrice. Beatrice, in a sad comparison, tears up.

“Oh, strewth! Why, Moomin?!” Beatrice screams, falling into Snorkmaiden’s arms.

Moomin looks to Snorkmaiden for help. He gets an idea quickly after realizes people can’t usually read trolls’ facial expressions. “I will eat the Lilliputian pies. Forgive me, Beatrice.”

Beatrice screeches and kicks a chair. Frightening Moomin enough to squeeze his tail until it hurts. “No! Pick mine!” Snorkmaiden nods aggressively at Moomin’s pleading.

“Okay! I will!” he frantically assures. He quickly cuts a piece out with his fork and eats it. It’s… burnt. He takes a swig of coffee. Also burnt. Gross.

Beatrice hugs his shoulders. “Moomintroll! We’re courting now! Isn’t this exciting?” She’s quite a bit younger than him, he realizes. She has to be at least a few years younger than Snufkin if the Joxter and he were having adventures before she could remember. That’s more nauseating than her baking.


	34. Moomin feels bad because of Beatrice.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moomin feels bad because of Beatrice.

Beatrice, triumphant in her courting, apparently decides the second step of courting is necessary directly after having the courtship be accepted. The second step of courting: presenting the party for which you wish to woo an item of three categories: naturally occurring, cannot be bigger than the party’s head, and must be soaked in something other than water, preferably wine.

One could call this abuse, Moomin having no choice in an eventual marriage with Beatrice. One could and one shall. This will be a tough one to explain without spilling his emotions or completely lying.

He admires her sense of fashion. She is good at the aesthetically pleasing look Snorkmaiden is always jealous of, the one she cuts out of magazines to paste on her door. It’s always either upsettingly bright colors or completely blank outfits. His favorite was a long green coat with a sunflower turtleneck under it, sporting the occasional blue to be the sky. It was very nice. The model, Snorkmaiden explained, was non-binary and often sported flowers. Their name was strange to Moomin but ever so pleasant: Harinae. Said “Har-in-eye”. They had a space-feel to them that didn’t properly match their clothing but it still looked amazing. Moomin has his own picture of Harinae shoved into one of his desk drawers, he does not remember which one.

Beatrice herself is wearing an odd get up. She’s changed since mere minutes ago for no reason whatsoever. Her pants are bicolored, sporting baby blue and soft pink, and her shirt is a pink graphic t-shirt with a blue-scaled picture of a lady in a flower crown. She put her hair into pigtails. She looks the opposite of before: childish in a much too grown body. Unsettling, to say the least.

“Moomin, dearest,” she sings. She’s taken up only singing. Moomin does not reply. “I would like to present a gift for you, soaked in underground sun-oil and from a place of ancient serenity and preservation by nature’s own gifts.” She bows and holds out her hand.

Moomintroll gasps, eyes wide in astonishment. Is that amber? How did she come across this? Where did she even get sun-oil? “This is a wonderfully amazing gift, Beatrice, but I don’t think I can accept it.” 

“Silly, you have to.” She seems pleased but her eyes have nothing behind them. He gulps and holds the wet amber in his paw. His fur immediately sticks together. How annoying. “Now that you’ve accepted, the next step requires time away. That will be hibernation.”

“Can you even hibernate?” Little My says out of nowhere. 

“Of course I can!” Beatrice huffs. As if to make a point, she yawns. “Shall we commence?”

Moomin tilts his head. “Do you need a cot or something?”

“Am I not sleeping in your bed?” Moomin fears that if he says no, she’ll throw a fit.

Little My laughs. “He’s too big for any bedmates. Unless it’s Snufkin, I guess.” Moomin doesn’t care that she basically called him fat and gay because he’s both of those.

Beatrice’s face scrunches up. “Moomin, can I talk to you alone?” She grabs his arm and leads him upstairs to the second floor before he can think about an answer. “Weren’t you and my sist--Snufkin dating?”

What? “What?” he says.

“You had that flower journal together and she--wait, no--he wrote you that letter inside of it that was very romantic. That wasn’t a relationship?” He wishes.

“No,” he says plainly. He hears Little My scurry up the side of the house and bust through his window. No shattering is heard but he just _knows_ she’s found a way inside his room. 

“That’s great,” she says. An awkward silence falls over the two. 

What to talk about, what to do? “You have to sleep in the guest room with Snorkmaiden,” Moomin mentions, trying to take a scuff off the floor with the pad of his foot. 

“But why? She’s so annoying.”

“There is no other place for you to stay.” While Moomin doesn’t think Snorkmaiden is even half as annoying as Beatrice, he doesn’t mention it.

She frowns and stomps forward before saying, “We might spend an extended time apart from each other,” and continues her trek to the guest room in an attempt to punish him. It’s actually a blessing.


	35. Moomin comforts Sniff.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moomin comforts Sniff.

The hall is lit by candlesticks, much as it has been. The warm, yellow light casts a wonderful yellow over the dark wooden floors and stairs and makes Moomintroll want hot chocolate. He decides that it’s a wonderful idea and asks the air in the hall if it would like some with him. Little My jumps out and latches to his leg in reply.

Moomin sighs, “I can’t walk with you on my leg.” She scurries up to his arm, securely holding him. What a small beast, Moomin muses.

He steps down the stairs carefully, as most of Moominhouse is trying to sleep. The last step makes a creek and Little My hisses. Moomin assumes she must be very tired and a good hot chocolate will set the hibernation season off right for her.

A miserable Sniff cries out from the kitchen. Little My’s claws bare themselves before she loosens her grip. It stings.

They did not include Sniff in their journey, Moomin remembers. He doesn’t dwell on it.

“Sniff! You almost gave me a heart attack!” Little My complains as they walk into the room.

Sniff throws his arms out and face-plants onto the table, forlorn. He dryly sobs.

“What’s got you so distraught, Sniff?” Moomin asks. Sniff’s face is puffy and the tablecloth is wet with his tears.

“I visited Mymble while you were out and she told me my mother and father were there! And they were!” He groans and bangs his head on the table. Moomin thinks it’s surprising his nose isn’t broken yet.

Little My drops down from Moomin’s arm. “What’s the problem then?” she impatiently taps her foot with her arms crossed.

“They were so happy without me! They even had a son!” Sniff whales.

Moomin steps over My to comfort Sniff. “And that’s okay, Sniff. I understand. It’s hard to see people we never had be content without us but that just shows that you were meant to be here, with Moominmamma and Pappa and Me. You’re a part of the family.”

Sniff’s face crunches up before he flings himself toward Moomintroll, causing them to topple over. Sniff whispers his thanks before wiping his nose, singing a high note, and refreshing his face with a splash of another high note. He smiles warmly and leaves.

Little My looks toward Moomin for help on why he sang but Moomin shakes his head. Sniff’s just a strange creature.

Moomintroll prepares two cups of hot chocolate, one with a candy cane and whipped cream (premade, of course) and the other just marshmallows. Little My slurps hers contently, sighing with every bite of candy cane. They talk until My yawns.

“Best be off to bed,” My says, stretching. “Thank you, Moomintroll.”

Moomin nods and sends her on her way, listening to her little shoes tap as she ascends. He blinks hard and stands up, ready for sleep. He doesn’t feel as empty.


	36. Moomin turns invisible and the Lady of the Cold scares the bejesus out of him.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moomin turns invisible and the Lady of the Cold scares the bejesus out of him.

A beautiful song. Enchanting and high and everything Moomin admires about her singing. She decrescendos until the room is silent in anticipation before she screeches, off-key.

Moomin is jolted awake by the noise. He pauses, regaining his sight. “Little My?” he asks his empty room. There is no answer. The singing has since stopped and his anxiety has skyrocketed. He rubs his face, trying to stop his headache. How rotten he is. His horrible brain designed a dream to hurt him. 

He’s the worst. He wasn’t enough for even Snufkin to stay by his side. Snufkin’s never cared for him. His letter was him listing a bunch of outlets… so he would stop talking with him. That’s the only logical answer to why he wrote it. To help him cope. He’s never coming back because he hates Moomintroll. Rightfully, so.

Moomin wipes the newly formed tears from his eyes and shudders a breath. Snufkin hates him. Moomin hates himself. Snufkin blames himself for hating Moomin, he guesses, but Moomin is the reason. He has to be. He made the Joxter leave and made Snufkin leave and made everyone feel terrible. He breathes in once more trying to calm down but it triggers a panic attack. He can’t breathe. He shouldn’t breathe.

Beatrice is a floor down with the impression Moomin will spend the rest of his life with her and he sinks back down into his bed, heaving and gasping for air.

The screeching of her voice still haunts him. It’s ghostly and empty and yet hurts his eardrums. It’s also melodic and has him lost in it. It screams his name and his heart, waiting for him to give in.

He breaks.

He’s awoken again. It’s still dead winter. He manages to walk to the mirror to guess how tired he is but what he’s presented with makes him stop cold. He can’t see himself.


	37. Snufkin comes back.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snufkin comes back.

A somber, low note rings. It’s followed by a whimsical arrangement of other notes until it returns to the low note, staying low then sliding high. It repeats until the high note is reached for the fifth time. 

Moomintroll stretches awake. That must be… _Snufkin_? Why would he be here? Oh, did he return for everyone besides Moomin? He understands. That’s what he would do.

Something raps on his window then the music plays again. Moomin rolls out of bed and drags his feet across the floor. Who would care enough to find him here? He opens the window. Snufkin is staring through him.

“Moomintroll?” he asks.

Moomin tries to answer but it gets stuck in his throat.

Snufkin asks again, more wobbly. “Knock twice for yes, once for no if you’re there. Am I speaking to Moomin?”

Moomin taps the window frame twice.

Snufkin lunges forward, awkwardly grabbing Moomin by the waist in a tight hug. “I’m so sorry, Moomin, I’m so sorry…” He is reminded of how small Snufkin is. Around one head smaller than Moomin.

Moomintroll hugs him back. He’s so afraid. He’s apologizing for hating him, isn’t he? 

“We’ll get through this together, Moomee,” Snufkin assures him, rubbing a circle into Moomin’s back. Moomin is reminded of Beatrice from the nickname. She’s still courted with him. “How about we go downstairs and eat some breakfast with your family?”

Moomin hugs him tighter and taps his foot once on the ground. 

“Okay, we’ll stay here.” They did. They shuddered against each other and cried until the tears made the outline of Moomin’s shoulder visible. He’s made Snufkin feel so bad. Why does he have to make Snufkin feel horrible?


	38. Moomin and Snufkin play Uno.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moomin and Snufkin play Uno but it's called Mackintire.

“Moomintroll,” Snufkin mumbles into his friend’s shoulder. “Would you care to play checkers or something with me?” Moomin pats him twice. Snufkin hums and wedges himself off the bed. Moomin misses the touch.

Is he using Snufkin? For physical validation? How horrid of himself, to be deceptive to Snufkin. 

Snufkin opens a drawer in Moomin’s bedside table, right above where all the games are supposed to be. Moomin can’t recall what he keeps there until Snufkin gasps. He turns back to Moomin, holding a book of flowers and a shriveled viola. Moomin remembers that he tried to press the viola before hibernating but forgot about it.

“I don’t exactly remember what the flower means,” Snufkin whispered like he’s ashamed.

Moomin wants to tell him that it’s alright, he doesn’t need to, but the words won’t express themselves. How bad of a friend is he? Can’t even comfort Snufkin in a time of despair. Worthless. Stupid. Mean.

“But I think violets mean devotion. So this might mean something along the lines of that, huh.”

Moomin feels the need to praise his friend but again, he cannot. He can’t even do the thing every accused him of doing too much!

Snufkin presses the flower best he can and writes a note below it in the book. “There,” he says. He puts it back into the drawer and ventures lower, attempting to find any games. He finds a deck of playing cards but each card’s pictures have been drawn by a Moomin himself. Moomin does not want him to see the cards. He does anyway.

“Whoa,” he gasps, organizing the cards by type. Each Queen with a Queen, each Jack with a Jack. The Queens are two different versions of Snorkmaiden, one from when they were younger--the reds--and one from more recent years--the blacks. The Kings are each Snufkin, following the same pattern as Snorkmaiden. Little My’s the Jacks and Sniff’s the Jokers. “Moomin, these are amazing!”

Moomin wants to reply, No. They are not. These are childish drawings I did when I felt good. I’ll never be able to go back to the time where I felt that good, but he doesn’t. He can’t, even if he would.

“Can we play with this deck?”

Moomin taps once.

Snufkin remains quiet, waiting for another knock. Moomin doesn’t provide one. “Okay, we’ll play with a different one. I’m thinking… Mackintire?” 

Moomin taps twice. Snufkin pauses before sitting down, unsure of where Moomin is. He obviously realizes that the large indent in the bed is him and sits a comfortable way away from him.   
Mackintire is basically Uno but Moomin never understood that term and they never had a proper deck for it. The point of the game is to get to zero cards. Since there are no action cards, one just has to play.

Snufkin stays silent.


	39. Snufkin wins at Uno and tells Beatrice to go away via Mamma.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snufkin wins at Uno and tells Beatrice to go away via Mamma.

Moomintroll is at two remaining cards. He’s about to place a 7 of diamonds on Snufkin’s 7 of clubs but realizes he can’t say Mackintire. The words make his throat dry and a tear runs down his cheek. He knocks three times, mimicking the vowels with the thumps, and places his Sniff down, hoping it counts.

Snufkin playfully groans. He has a deck of ten cards. He places a 7 of hearts on Moomin’s previously played card. Moomin realizes he does not have a seven or a heart card and draws five cards before finding a 3 of hearts.

They play more and more, waiting for someone to win. Snufkin giggles with his victory, making Moomin’s tail wag. He places his final card and jumps up. “Proud, Moomintroll?”

Moomin wants to say yes. He knocks it instead.

Snufkin pauses out of what seems to be bewilderment and smiles as bright as the blue moon. ‘I’m hungry,” Snufkin states, suggesting that if Moomin was hungry as well they could get food together. “Would you like to eat something up here?”

A knock comes from the door, not Moomin. “Moomin? Snufkin? Is everything all right?” Moominmamma asks.

Snufkin looks to Moomin’s dent in the bed. “Yes, Mamma!” Snufkin says convincingly.

“Beatrice would like to see Moomin, dear, is he in there?”

Moomin taps Snufkin once. “No!”

“Where has he gone off to? And why are you in there?” Moomin knows Snufkin can’t lie to Moominmamma.

Snufkin hops up and goes to the door. “He is, but he told me to tell you no,” he whispers.

“Oh.” Moominmamma breathes in and turns away from Snufkin. “Beatrice, he’s out adventuring, Snufkin says. Near the far side of the beach. Maybe you should check there.”

They leave them to be.

“Moomin,” Snufkin starts. “I’ll get us some food, alright?”

Moomin knocks twice.


	40. Snufkin gets sad and has his own scene.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snufkin gets sad and has his own scene.

Snufkin travels down the stairs. He’s very concerned about Moomintroll. This must be because of his letter when he left. His face is hot and his eyes are puffy.

He walks into the kitchen and sits at the table.

“Moomintroll, can you pass me the--” Moominpappa looks up from his newspaper to try and greet his son. He’s met with just Snufkin. “What happened to you?”

Snufkin’s face crumples and cries into his hands.

Moominmamma rushes over and hugs him softly. “Can you tell us what’s wrong?”

“Moomin--” he sobs loudly. Mamma gives him a glass of water. He takes a sip. It seems to help his tears. “ _Moomin_ ,” he whispers, “is invisible.”

Moominpappa chokes on his coffee. “What?”

“You can’t see him.”

Little My jumps onto the table and yells, “You’re lying!”

Snufkin cries harder. He’s not. He wants to be.


	41. Moomin laughs.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moomin laughs.

Moomin can hear the commotion from downstairs. The only thing that he can properly hear is Little My scream, “ _You’re lying_!”

They’re talking about him. And being mean to Snufkin. This is all Moomin’s fault.

Snufkin runs up the stairs. He crashes into Moomin’s room and his face is glimmering with tears. He says quietly, “Please hug me.” Moomin shuffles up and holds his friend tightly. His hair feels scruffy and his smock feels like it’s darkening Moomin’s fur with dirt. They stay like that until Snufkin tells Moomin, “I love you.” Moomin can’t say it back but he wants to. He’s realized that Snufkin doesn’t hate him. Snufkin is sorry for him. Moomin wishes he wasn’t, though. That’s a lot of weight to carry.

“I didn’t even get you food!”

Moomin laughs. A real, genuine, _heard_ laugh. Snufkin’s eyes sparkle.


	42. Snufkin puts Beatrice in her place.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snufkin puts Beatrice in her place.

The sky's the darkest blue Moomin’s ever seen it. Its stars shine as their lives depend on it, which they do. Stars must shine. Snufkins must travel. Moomintrolls must love. Which they do.

Mamma knocks on the door in her signature knock. _One and two, three_. “Moomin? Are you in there?” Not quite. Moomin is on the verandah roof with Snufkin, stargazing. They can barely hear her.

Snufkin hops up. “I’ll tell her we’re out here.” He leaves and returns. “She wants to know you’re okay.”

Moomin gets to his feet. Snufkin can only look at the blue ribbon around his tail. They tied it there so he would be able to be found. Moomin climbs up the ladder to his mother waiting at the window.

“Are you there, dear?”

Two knocks. He can see the tears well up in her eyes.

“Good,” she says. “Would you two like some dinner? Snufkin came down earlier but left in a hurry.”

Moomin hesitates before knocking twice. He does not like communicating like this. His knuckles feel sore.

“I’ll bring two plates up. We’re having rolls and peas and carrots and a piece of the pie. Snorkmaiden’s treat.” Oh, yeah. He wonders where Beatrice has gone off to. Mamma scurries away, sniffling like a sick child. How sad he’s made everyone…

“Snufkin! Hello!” an Irish voice calls up to Moomin’s friend. Moomin looks at the mumrik and notices how tense he is. Must not like Beatrice all too much. “Where’s Moomin gone off to?”

Moomin climbs down to Snufkin.

“Is there someone else up there?” Beatrice calls.

Snufkin’s voice cracks while saying, “No, just me.”

Beatrice hums thoughtfully. “Sorry for misgendering you! I didn’t realize I was doing it and I won’t do it any longer!” Moomin feels like scoffing. She only catches herself after she misgenders him and it’s not good enough.

Snufkin does not dismiss her or say, _It’s okay_. He says, “Good.”

She leaves and they spend the rest of the night dreaming of the stars and eating the food Mamma brought to them. Snufkin stays in Moomin’s room with him.


	43. Moomin speaks.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moomin speaks.

Late into the night, Moomin awakes. “Snufkin?” he says aloud. He said something!

Snufkin shoots up immediately. “Yes, Moomintroll?”

Moomin can’t find the words so he holds his friend’s hand. They fall back asleep.


	44. A ukulele is to be found.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A ukulele is to be found.

“Moomin!” Little My screams to Snufkin on Moomin’s bed.

Snufkin punches her on reflex, waking up. Moomintroll is already awake. He’s been awake since sunrise. Snufkin wakes up when the world does unless he’s in Moominhouse. Moomin assumes something about Moominhouse lures people to relax. He’s sitting on his desk chair, trying to draw. He cannot see the ink.

“Little one! I’m so sorry,” Snufkin coddles her. She bites him.

“I’m older than you! Where is he?!”

“My, he’s over there.” Snufkin points toward Moomin, only knowing because of the bow.

Little My’s anger dissipates when she spots the floating ribbon. “Wow, huh. Really got worked up over the winter…”

Moomin wants to make sure she knows it’s not her fault. He can’t tell.

She stares at the bow for longer. She looks down for a moment and turns around to leave. She shuts the door lightly.

Snufkin hums a familiar tune. He begins singing, “...Have you seen your Auntie Mariah? _My Aunt Mariah be wrong_ , says he, _The stupid pub’s on fire_. Oh, there goes Brown, upside down…”

“What is that?” Moomin says hoarsely. Moomin says! Yay!

Snufkin’s face lights up and looks to Moomin from where he was picking at his nails. “Old Dun Cow. Father taught it to me.”

 _Oh… that’s where I heard it. When the Joxter was over_ , Moomin thinks.

“Those aren’t the exact words, however. The song is too… brash for my liking. So I changed the lyrics to something more suitable.” Snufkin takes a breath. “I can sing the rest for you if you’d like. Maybe I can teach you some of it,” he invites thoughtfully. “What instruments do you like? Two knocks for using your breath, one for using your hands.”

Moomin thinks hard. This is important to Snufkin, he’s very insistent about it. He doesn’t think breathing into an instrument will be the best for him, so he knocks his closed paw on the desk once.

“Do you think your mother might have something like that in the room for everything?”

Moomin knocks twice and moves his chair out to stand up.

And they are off.


	45. The ukulele is found.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ukulele is found.

Moomin watches Snufkin glance his way every minute or so. He’s worried. Moomin has made him worried. Moomin has made his best friend feel bad. Moomin has does something bad.

“Mamma?” Snufkin quietly calls into the kitchen after they descended down the stairs. Moomin is quite afraid someone will make fun of him for his predicament.

“Yes, dear?” Moominmamma approaches the two, wiping his floured paws on his apron. “Do you need anything?”

Snufkin coughs awkwardly. “Yes, I would like to know if you had a stringed instrument in the room for everything.”

“Oh? I do believe I do. Is something wrong with your mouth-organ?”

“No, no. It’s for…” Snufkin waits until Moomin taps him twice to say yes. “Moomintroll. I’ll be showing him how to play this song I learned from my dad.”

“Oh? Does Moomin know you’re doing this?”

“What? Yes, of course, he does.”

“I don’t mean to be rude but Moomin didn’t have the best time when your father was around and I was afraid that it might uproot some strong, negative emotional reaction. Just keep his experiences in mind, okay, dear?”

Snufkin looks mortified. “Yes, ma’am.”

She leads them to the room for everything. “I have a ukulele somewhere. It’s yellow with white strings. There are some lemons painted onto the neck of it. Good luck, I must be getting back to baking.”

“Thank you, Mamma,” Snufkin says politely. He hasn’t let go of Moomin’s hand since Mamma scared him. Moomin knows Mamma didn’t mean to make him freak out but he’s a little mad at Snufkin for thinking that his thoughts were not considered yet. Not very mad at all, really. Confused. He squeezes Moomin’s hand as a warning and says, “Shall we split up?”

Moomintroll thinks this is a wonderful idea but he doesn’t want to stop holding Snufkin’s hand. Maybe Snufkin wants to stop holding his. He squeezes twice and they let go.

They search and search, through musical piles and not-so-musical piles. Finally, Snufkin plays a horrid chord. He’s found it.

“Moomintroll!” he says, smiling as if he’s won a prize. “I found it. It needs… some work to be done on it. Maybe a repaint to get it more your style, or maybe you like this! I’m not assuming anything!” He’s sweating. Moomin thinks he’s adorable. “It needs to be tuned.


	46. Moomin and Snufkin ignore Sniff.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moomin and Snufkin ignore Sniff.

They spend another night wallowing in tears. Snufkin truly looks exhausted but he doesn’t seem to want to leave. Moomin settles into bed and Snufkin decides to lay on the floor and assures Moomin that if he’s uncomfortable, he’ll join him.

As they settle themselves, Sniff rams into the room from the door. “MOOMINTROLL!” screams he. How dreadfully loud.

Moomin shoots up and tries to say, “Is something wrong?” but nothing comes of it.

Snufkin stands up slowly and greets Sniff. “What is it, friend?”

“Where…?”

Snufkin looks to Moomin’s dent in the bed, over the covers. Moomin taps the bedframe twice in affirmation. Sniff gets spooked at the sound. “Sniff, it’s just Moomin. He’s turned invisible.”

Sniff squeals nervously and hunches over to connect his hands. “He’s a ghost?!”

Moomin laughs. A tiny laugh, at best, but it’s a laugh. Snufkin smiles widely. “No, he’s just recovering from some distress he’s been put through.”

“Oh.” The silence of the night sets in. “Well, I found a cool cave with many pearls in it. Somebody must have abandoned them a time ago.”

“Maybe we can go tomorrow, Sniff,” Snufkin suggests, very much attempting to get rid of him.

“Okay, but that has to be a promise,” and he leaves. Moomin groans. He does not want to leave.

“We don’t have to go with him, dove. It’s okay,” Snufkin shares. “Let’s sleep.”

They do.


	47. Moomin is not enjoying learning the ukulele.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moomin is not enjoying learning the ukulele.

Moomin thinks this is stressful. Learning a new thing is rather difficult, especially if it’s a practice involving quick, nimble fingers, unlike a Moomin. He can do this. Snufkin wants this to be how Moomin gets better so he gives it a shot.

“Moomee, you ready?” Snufkin asks, getting ready to test Moomin’s understanding of the instrument.

Moomin knocks on the ukulele twice. He’s not ready. He does not enjoy this.

“Okay… C.” 

Moomin does not play the chord C, that’s not the game. He has to play a C note in every string. It takes him a while. He starts with the lowest C --both just playing the string untampered and then the octave up—and then the E, G, and A strings, all the same note. 

“Good!” Snufkin congratulates with the excitement of a young child. It’s precious.

Moomin feels… lighter. Not there. More invisible, almost. He feels unheard although this is all for him. How selfish of him to not accept the help he’s been given. Learning the instrument would be amazing and fun if he were not so sad and miserable and unable to have a voice. It’s not fair that’s he’s like this, for him or for everyone else.

“I don’t want to do this,” he says hoarsely. He looks Snufkin in the eyes, but Snufkin looks past him.

“Okay,” he says kindly. He’s always so kind. He looks excited. “What would you like to do?”

Moomin thinks about what he’s craving. He wants to eat ice cream. He can’t say anything. Why? Why can’t he? He’s being listened to! He was heard! What is he doing?! He sets the ukulele down and holds a tiny flashlight to the words he’s written for his request. It’s sloppy but Snufkin seems to understand.

“Would you like to come with me to get you and I ice cream? Or would you like to stay here?” Moomin stands up to signify he wants to go with him. “Alright, let’s go.”


	48. Moomin likes ice cream.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moomin likes ice cream.

“Mamma?” Snufkin calls out. A tiny rustling occurs but only Little My responds.

It’s sort and sour. She kicks Snufkin’s shins.

“Well, rude,” Snufkin mutters shucking her off his leg. “Is there any ice cream?”

“Of course, tent-man,” Little My scoffs. “Just vanilla, though.”

Moomin likes vanilla. It’s not his favorite, but it’s still tasty. He very much enjoys dark chocolate ice cream. It’s very rich.

However, Moomin does not like Snufkin being called _tent-man_. It’s just stupid and unoriginal. If one is to insult Snufkin, they have to be funny.

“Thank you, little one,” Snufkin sighs. Moomin knows Snufkin does not enjoy vanilla particularly. He much rather would like some sorbet or fruit-flavored things. He usually goes for mango and strawberry, the weirdo. “Let’s get you some, I think I might pass.”

Perhaps Moomin can find something to Snufkin’s taste.

It’s a strange season for keeping ice cream cool so they keep it in the coldest part of the cellar. Moomin doesn’t like it down there, but neither does Snufkin, so they go down together.

Snufkin is in a humming mood, Moomin notices. Moomintroll, being a Moomin, very much cannot hum. Physically unable to do so. He’s quite an exquisite whistler, though.

Snufkin’s humming a song Moomin’s never heard of. His humming, more often than not, turns into singing. “I… pray to the god with the three-prong prod…” hum, hum, hum, “Oh, Neptune, father Neptune…” hum, “If you should lose my sailor, I’ll sing no more to you…”

They descend, having the entrancing melody ringing throughout the dark. With a final step, Snufkin sings, “If it were not for me…” and he ends his song, although Moomin doubts it’s over. “Wait, I can’t see you and you can’t see in the dark… how… do we do this?”

Moomin pauses. How will they? Moomin gets the bright idea of spontaneously grabbing Snufkin’s hand for a guide. Snufkin doesn’t realize that is what’s happening.

“AH! SOMETHING TOUCHED ME!”

“It was just me!” Moomin says in the smallest voice. He falls very small.

“Oh, no! I’m so sorry,” Snufkin grabs his arm in a hug. “I’ll lead you through by holding your hand, okay?”

Moomintroll nods but obviously Snufkin does not see him. 

They follow their plan.


	49. Sniff is a gremlin.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sniff is a gremlin.

“Sniff?!” Snufkin shouts, seeing a macropodine creature hunched over the ice cream.

A voice who is most definitely Sniff yelps. “What are you doing down here? Why are you yelling?”

“Why are _you_ down here?!”

“I’m eating ice cream!”

“Oh, my Tove, please stop yelling,” Moomin scolded them.

“MOOMIN?! WHERE ARE YOU?!”

“By Tove, Sniff! Don’t shout,” Snufkin says. “We’re taking a tub.”

“And what? You're going to eat it all?” Sniff taunts.

“Yes.” Snufkin sounds very sure of himself. Moomin would like to eat all of the ice-cream. That sounds nice.


	50. Moomin wants to eat ice cream.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moomin wants to eat ice cream.

Snufkin struggles to pick up the tub of ice cream. It is… _all_ of the ice cream. Moomin taps his shoulder once. Snufkin groans and sets it back down from the two inches he lifted it. “Fine, Moomin, let’s see you try.”

Moomin lifts it quite effortlessly. 

Snufkin smiles. “Well, I’ve lost my manhood.”

Moomin’s urge to destroy Snufkin with a roast overcomes his condition so he asks, “What manhood?”

Snufkin swats at him and laughs whole-heartedly. “I’ll grab some bowls or we can eat it straight out of the tub? What do you say, one knock for bowls, two for none.”

Moomin takes no time to consider the decision and taps his friend twice.

“Let’s feast, dear Moomintroll!”


	51. Little My is wise.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little My is wise.

Restless as Little My, Moomintroll cannot make his mind calm down to sleep. Why is Snufkin so upset? Why is Snufkin staying with him in the first place?

Of course! He’s here to make Moomin feel better when he permanently leaves, isn’t he? How cruel, but completely understandable. Tove, isn’t Moomintroll an idiot? Falling in love with a boy who couldn’t care less, how pathetic. He must be leaving tonight.

Moomin feels gone. His mind won’t shut up and his body won’t exist. How long until he’s nothing but a memory?

He needs to find Snufkin and talk to him but he can’t move. He feels paralyzed in consciousness.

His door slams open and Little My steps through. “What happened?” She couldn’t know he was there, but he supposes she just has a hunch. Clever Little My.

He can’t even make a noise, not with his throat, not with his body. He just lays limp on the floor, waiting to disappear forever.

“Snufkin’s crying in Pappa’s workroom and he’s ruined a good chunk of the memoirs and Beatrice is stress baking. You’re in here… I’m assuming lying on the floor?”

Moomin is reminded of his horrible deeds. He’s forced them to be so upset.

“Moomin? I thought you could talk now? Can you still knock for me?”

He can’t. He doesn’t want to. He just wants the hideous floating feeling to leave. He’s done being miserable but he can’t even move.

“I know what Too-Ticky said last year about Ninny. Not just Ninny, though. All unheard souls, right? Didn’t she say to listen? That’s what I’m going to do, Moomintroll. I’m going to listen. Take your time and I’ll be here for you.”

Why is Little My so different? She’s all grown up. Still immature and older than all of them, yet she’s become more empathetic. Moomin can feel his presence begin to solidify. He rolls over from his side to face Little My. “Thank you, My. I need to… vent.” He looks at his paws. They’re not fluffy. They are, but the fur is matted and dirty, not pristine as a Moomin’s paws should be. He can see to the ground through his arms and legs but they’re there. Not much else is, though.

“Go for it.”


	52. Moominpappa doesn't know what's going on.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Explanation: Snufkin hasn't told Moomintroll he loves him yet, Moominpappa thinks this is a crush thing.

“Oh, my,” Moominpappa sighs, seeing the sight of Snufkin curled up under the desk of his study, clutching ruined papers, crying his eyes out. “Son, what’s got into you?”

“M-Moomin!” he wails. His claws rip a piece of paper that was already soaked. What a strange boy. 

“What about him?”

Snufkin only cries more.

“I know! I’ll read to him out of my memoirs to get him out of his issue!”

“DON’T!” Snufkin screams.

“Okay! Okay! I won’t! Just please calm down! What’s the matter?” Geez, what’s with this kid?

Snufkin holds his index finger up for a second to relax. He wipes his eyes furiously. “Moomintroll’s d-dating Beatrice.”

“He is? What about Snorkmaiden?”

“What? They’re b-broken up, they have been.”

Odd, Snorkmaiden certainly acts like they’re together. “What’s the problem then?” Snufkin’s shaking. ‘...Alright, youngin’. How about you come out of there and I can get you a glass of water and we can talk?”

Snufkin nods his pitiful head. 

Moominpappa stands up straight and exists the door. Should he get Mamma for this one? No, no, that would be stressful for Snufkin, certainly. Why is he crying so hard? What would cause a man to do that? Pappa stops dead in his tracks. Oh. He’s in love. But Beatrice is his sister? He hopes they can solve that one for sure. Water time, babey.

He comes back upstairs with a large glass of water and crackers. He got crackers because an old educator of his always said to eat crackers when you cry. He knocks on the open door and sees Snufkin with his feet propped up on the chair with him. “Buddy, I got some crackers, too.”

Snufkin sniffles and holds his hand out for the water, for which he is rewarded. “I d-don’t know how to s-say it.”

“You’re in love, boy.”

Snufkin flushes dark red. That confirms it, he’s in love. Moominpappa hopes it’s not Beatrice. Maybe it’s Snorkmaiden! That would only be the logical next step!

“That’s okay, child. She’s wonderful and you just have to tell her.”

Snufkin’s blush pauses its spreading. “Who?”

Moominpappa can tell he’s made a mistake. “Snorkmaiden?”

Snufkin laughs a little, almost rudely. He says, in the tiniest voice he could’ve, “It’s Moomin.”

“Oh, thank Tove. I thought it was Beatrice for a second and I got scared.”

Snufkin laughs loudly and covers his mouth. “No, no,” he wipes his eyes with his fingers. “It’s just Moomin.”

“Ahh, that makes sense. Well, what’s the problem? Just tell him!’

“Moominpappa, no! I could never, he wouldn’t understand… If I tell him that I love him so much, he’ll get scared and not want to be with me.” His tears have stopped streaming.

Pappa is very concerned that the Snufkin isn’t very perceptive at all. Moomin loves him, romantically or not, and wouldn’t change that if Snufkin likes him as more than a friend. What a ridiculous pair of people. “How would you know that if you haven’t talked with him about it?”

“He thinks I hate him. I was too brash and snapped at him and ran out and cried and asked him why he would ever agree to court Beatrice--”

“Just talk to him! Wait, no, isn’t it listen with these types? Have a conversation, I suppose,” Moominpappa interrupts, losing his patience.

Snufkin breathes in hard--concerningly hard and for far too long--then stands up and marches toward the stairs to Moomin’s floor.

That child, so odd…


	53. Moomin and Snufkin fight.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moomin and Snufkin fight.

“I just feel like I can’t talk to Snufkin because he’ll shut off or try to fix it. The giants were so intimidating that it was hard to express myself properly.”

Little My simply hums. She’s a great listener when she’s trying to be.

“Thank you, My,” Moomin finally says. Their conversation was long and sad but Little My made it better, made him feel listened to.

“I know you’d do the same for me.” Moomin thinks about this. He would do the same. He will if the time ever arises.

They sit in silence, Little My hugging Moomin like she had been doing. She speaks up after the silence reaches a buzzing, “How was the ice cream?”

“Good until Beatrice took it.”

“Well, that sucks.”

Moomin laughs. “Yeah, it does.”

“I shouldn’t have let you go into the kitchen that night before hibernation.”

Moomin pauses. “I never blamed you.”

Little My sobs a tiny bit in her laugh.

They sit in silence some more. Eventually, someone knocks on the door.

Little My hops up and opens the door. “No visitors.”

“But Little My, I need to speak to Moomintroll,” Moomin hears Snufkin plea.

“Fine, but I’ll be watching you.” She steps aside and he walks in. His eyes are puffy and his scarf is fluffed up so it hides his mouth. What a particular scarf.

“Moomin!” Snufkin suddenly exclaims and throws himself to Moomin. Moomin supposes his behavior is based on the opacity that is Moomin’s being. “I’m so sorry,” he cries.

“Snufkin, shh,” Moomin rubs his back. “We can talk about this, we can do this.”

“Mhm,” Snufkin mumbles, tickling Moomin’s shoulder with his words.

They prepare themselves for the upcoming tears. Little My is sitting at Moomin’s desk, silent but spectating.

Moomin starts. “Remember a few summers ago; in the flower field where we were resting?”

Snufkin nods into his body. “Didn’t you talk about this when we’re in the boat fishing for the giants?”

“I didn’t get to say what I wanted to say. That is…” he glances to Little My and remembers that she’s here to care for him. “I love you, too.”

Snufkin cries very loudly. Like he was doing downstairs, interrupting their talk but encouraging Moomin to speak his truth. 

“Oh, I love you,” Moomin says, smiling. “So very, very much.” Snufkin pulls his fur tighter.

“Moomintroll,” he says softly. “I love you. This is our third year of dating and it’s our first I love you, haha.”

Moomin’s eyes shoot open. “Our what?”

“First _I love you_?”

“No, no, how long have we been dating?” 

Little My roars with laughter. “Wait! You though-- he thought-- oh, my Tove! Both of you! Have you never spoken to each other?! What on earth?!”

“Little My! Don’t be rude!” Snufkin turns to Moomin. “Are you telling me that we weren’t dating? That entire time?” He’s crying again.

“How was I supposed to know?!” Moomin yells. He doesn’t mean to.

“I just thought we were! All the little hints and touches and hugs meant nothing to you?! Just friends?!” He’s very much crying. His eyes are flicking from slit to round confusingly. He inhales like a madman. “Moomintroll. I need you to understand before you say anything, okay? Will you listen to me?”

Moomin feels it’s a little ironic that he needs to listen because every second that goes by he feels himself slipping. He nods.

“I know now that we aren’t dating. I don’t understand it, truly, how we could not be dating, but I know. I thought we were in a relationship because we were very close, like, physically a lot more than we were before that time ago. We spoke for longer and our silences were even longer. We shared meals and flower crowns. I wrote you love letters… _all_ the time. I thought what kicked off the relationship was the flower book! It literally was a love letter! I don’t understand how you couldn’t’ve noticed!”

“Snufkin, stop yelling! He didn’t know, okay? Just take a second to think about what he’s feeling!” Little My stops him.

Snufkin does stop. He looks Moomin over. 

Moomin feels the courage to speak. “I didn’t notice. I’m not gonna sit here and justify myself, but your reaction to me not realizing is so… mean-hearted and selfish. I don’t think I can even be in a relationship like that with you if you never spoke with me about it, no matter how much I love you.”


	54. Moomin wants to get better.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A time-skip and Moomin wants to get better.

“Ohoho!” a very, very, very annoying voice chimes in from the window of the living room. Uh, oh. Stinky.

“What is it, Stinky?” Sniff asks his new-founded friend. They bonded over their love for treasure so now Stinky is at Moominhouse all the time. Moomintroll hates it so much.

“There are two tall trees headin’ toward us!”

Moomin looks out the window and spots a green man and a black and white man. It’s the giants! He can’t tell if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. “Strike me pink!” Moomin whispers, excited nonetheless. He’s still partially invisible and his voice isn’t fully back. He’s worse than he was a week ago, but that’s because he’s so lonely.

“Who are they?!” Beatrice screams from the loveseat opposite to Moomin.

“They’re our friends,” Little My informs her, jumping down the stairs. “And why aren’t you gone yet?”

“I still have a chance to fix our relationship, right, Moomin? We can still do this?”

“No,” he says bluntly. Beating around the bush won’t help anything, he’s found.

“Why not?!”

“I am not attracted to you. Plus, I’m pretty sure it’s illegal. I’m like quite a few years older than you? Also, you’re toxic.”

“Well, I never! Why do you treat me so?”

Moomin groans from frustration. He does not have time for this. “I’m going to greet them.” He steps up the stairs to the first floor then books it to the way to the roof. Stinky is following him, which means Sniff is following him.

He steps out the window and stands as flatly as he can. “Hello!” he shouts. Denvir waves and nudges Landgrave, to which Landgrave pays attention to the little folk like Moomin.

“Hello, Moomin! How’s everything going?” Landgrave says.

Moomin laughs a little before reassuring, “Not very well, but better! And worse!”

“That's not very good.”

“It is what it is, that’s what I always say!”

“...We can work on that…”

Moomin looks to Stinky, who’s awestruck. “This is Landgrave,” he gestures to the black and white one, “and Denvir,” then to the green one.

“They’re tall.”

“Astute observation, Stinky.” Moomin raises his voice, “This is Stinky!” The giants nod understandingly. “Now that we’re all acquainted! I have to tell you Snufkin has gone off! Has been for over a week!” Moomin tells them.

“We're not here for him, Moomintroll,” Denvir answers him.

“Oh!” He feels honored. And like a lot of pressure is put onto him. He can do this, though. He just needs to get better. He needs to want to get better.


	55. Landgrave tells two stories.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Landgrave tells two stories.

“How can we make you more comfortable when talking to us?” Landgrave asks when the sun sets over the valley. Moomin feels like this is already comfortable. It’s just them that’s intimidating.

He wonders if this will make them sad. What if they’re insecure about it? He should just tell them. He should just let them help him. “You’re intimidating!” he finally says.

Denvir tilts his head. “Then should we tell you embarrassing things about us to make your respect level drop?”

Moomin thinks this is a wonderful idea if they’re up for it. He’d hate to make them uncomfortable. He nods.

“When we were your size, we use to confuse a lot of people. We looked like mumriks but we aren't, you know? I have pointy ears and barely any canines, even mymbles have canines. Denvir had flowers growing all over him but they were larger own his tiny body and it was ridiculous. The story happened a year after our meeting. I was stopped because I looked like a vigilante they were looking for. Of course, when the officer saw how… un-mumrik-like I was, he was like, ‘Sorry to bother you, ma’am… sir?’ and that made Denvir laugh so hard that he got interrogated. They told him to take his flowers off but he went, ‘Nah, see? They’re attached to me,’ and plucked a flower off and didn’t even scream when blood was just spilling from his arm and the officers just went, ‘What on earth?’ and patched him up and let him go. It was so ridiculous!” His laugh booms.

“Muffin, that wasn’t embarrassing… at all. It was morbid.” Denvir calls Landgrave Muffin? Isn’t that sweet!

“Maybe I wasn’t paying attention, haha. Embarrassing? Like when I was asked to speak for the Hemulen’s Science Reservation?”

“Oh, that’s extremely on par.”

“Moomintroll, prepare to cringe!”

“O-okay?!” Moomin shouts. What’s he signed up for? He suddenly thinks of if the giants are truly immortal does that make them gods?

Landgrave’s face flushes before he starts. “When we were around 210, I had been studying at a hemulen school because you don’t have to be a hemulen to go, just behave like one. I had a lot of trouble with the discipline part because I don’t have a tail so I can’t exactly hold it at a specific angle or tie a bow to it but I graduated. I was top of my class because I have all the time in the world to study and I took, like, 20 years? Yeah, twenty years to complete it and truly understand it. It gets hard, the older you are, to make room to learn, but the more I grew, the more I could understand, which is confusing, really, but I did it. The top of the class has to give a speech at the end of the year and your boy here reserved that right. I was very prepared and have 10 pages of content to speak about that were just notes! I had everything so prepared! I went to the building to give my speech--mind you, this was 300 hundred years ago. Not much was as advanced as it is now. The building was an observatory, one for the stars. It had a horrid wooden stage that creaked every time I stepped on it, and this presentation involved me to be a little mobile! I was already afraid of people wondering why it was so creaky! So, I went to the building and I was too tall to step into it. I didn’t realize I was too tall until I smacked my forehead on the frame! I ducked and continued to the stage only to realize I was late! And they were there waiting for me! They watched me run into the door, duck, look to them, and promptly walk out! I never went back.”

Oh, how terrible, Moomin thinks.

“Landgrave, don’t lie. You went back for graduation.”

“But not to that building!”

They’re funny folk. Maybe talking to them doesn’t have to be as scary as it seems. “Okay, okay! I haven’t cringed but I think I trust you more now.”

“That’s great! Can we get to business now or do you just want to chill?”

“No, no, we should get started. I mean… I don’t have much time until I’m invisible again.” Moomin looks at his paws. Somehow, dirt doesn’t transfer over to the unseen state, but it’s obvious his paws are matted. Once he gets better--and he promises himself he will--he’ll be sure to do a deep cleanse of his fur. He’ll be back to normal in no time, he’s sure.

Landgrave puts a paw to his own heart. “I do say, you’re looking transparent. When did you become invisible?”

Moomin retells the story, feeling himself sink. He tells of the night before winter, the awakening, everything Snufkin and him did, their "falling out". Snufkin left him. Because he couldn’t be in a relationship with him. He didn’t give them time. He just stomped out and left. His emptiness was replaced with a tricky array of emotions, making him mad and overly excited and sad in an instant.

He almost loses his mind before looking at the giants. They’re nodding and taking every word he has carefully. They’re listening with the intent of helping. The feeling is warm and fills him with care. It’s like dipping into a sauna.

“How about we try something out, Moomin,” Landgrave suggests after a quick look to Denvir. “Can we ask you some questions? Feel free to decline.”

“No, no, ask,” Moomin quickly answers.

Denvir asks first, “Is Snufkin the only reason you wake up in the spring?”

Moomin takes the question hard. He doesn’t have to answer. He wants to. “Without Snufkin being here, it’s difficult to care. Whether that be about myself or others. When I wake up and he isn’t here for some time, it either gets easier or tremendously harder with the more time I spend doing things. It’s hard to tell. I think I do.”

Landgrave asks another question, “What did you do before you knew Snufkin?”

Moomin laughs. “I was just a kid. I didn’t have much going on and the only thing I would do is whatever my parents asked of me or what Sniff wanted to do. When I met him, I literally couldn’t believe that I, too, could go on adventures and be my own Moomin.”

“Do you think you try to repay Snufkin for helping you mature by spending time with him?” Denvir inquires.

Wow. Moomin has never thought about that. “I might, actually.” Not that is the only reason Moomin hangs out with Snufkin! He loves Snufkin, truly. They’re best friends and Snufkin’s a truly splendid mumrik.

Landgrave smiles. “Okay! Well, I think what we should work on is how much you think you owe Snufkin.”

Moomin owes Snufkin for his entire being. Except for his current state. That’s sort of his fault. “I think that I blame Snufkin for how I am now.”

Denvir gasps. Not in surprise, but as if he’s just made a discovery. “That’s why you can’t be with him! You blame him for not telling you that you were in a relationship, which caused Beatrice to think you were available and torment you!”

Moomin is embarrassed to say that that is part of it. If he knew, he could’ve used it to make her leave him alone. If he knew, then he might not have felt so lost.

“Denvir! It’s rude to make assumptions!” Landgrave whisper-yells.

“Oh, my Tove! He’s right!” Moomin reassures Landgrave. He’s crying a whole bunch now. This suddenly is too much.

“Oh, dear,” Denvir coos, tapping Moomin with the intent of a pat. “Let’s take a break, okay?”

Moomin nods.

“Do you want to stay in our cave?” Landgrave asks.

Moomin nods again.


	56. Moomin takes a bath and Snorkmaiden shows compassion.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moomin takes a bath and Snorkmaiden shows compassion.

“Moomintroll!” Snorkmaiden calls out from the kitchen when Moomin walks into the house. “Mamma had informed me that you…” she pauses when she sees him. 

He’s been gone since the last night, and it’s just the morning. His fur is dirty and messy and his eyes are puffy and squinted from the goofy smile he holds on his face. She can see him. She can’t see anything behind him. He’s visible. He has a leaf in his chest-fluff.

“MOOMIN!” She screams and hugs him tightly. “Oh, I’m so glad!” She holds him an arm’s length away to get a good look at him. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

She leads him to the bathroom. His claws are so sharp! “Sit here, Moomee.”

“Please don’t call me _Moomee_.” He sits.

“Okay, I won’t.” Strange choice, but okay!

Snorkmaiden combs through his fur on his head and stares into his eyes. They’re so blue, she’s forgotten how pretty they are. She reaches a point where she can’t help him anymore after she files his claws. “You’ve got to bathe. It doesn’t have to be now but it has to be soon. When you’re done, we’ll comb you more.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Moomin jokes. His joke is based on _ma’am_ and the ever-so-sad voice he put on.

“Now, what I was saying: Mamma told me that you won’t eat blueberry pancakes so I’ve made you plain ol’ waffles.”

She wasn’t expecting him to laugh. “Oh, Snorkmaiden! That’s very sweet! I think I’ll take a bath now.” 

_Alright, as long as you get clean, Moomintroll._ “We’ll be having lunch now, join us when you want. Be dry.”

“Fine, fine.” They share a refreshing laugh and Snorkmaiden leaves the room.

She makes her way to the kitchen and sees a very tired looking Snufkin sitting at the table, chatting away with Mamma and Pappa. If this is Snufkin, she could barely tell.

He wasn’t wearing a green smock. His hair was over his eyes. His signature hat was hanging on the coat rack and his scarf was completely discarded.

She hoped this wasn’t Snufkin. Moomin would be very upset. Not upset that he was here, more upset in that his feelings would all resurface. She didn’t want that to happen.

She’s horrible at recognizing people. She can’t tell this is Snufkin besides his hat.

“Snufkin?!” Sniff screams before she gets the chance.

“Wh- Sniff, why are you yelling?”

“You left Moomin, jerk!”

Little My ducks under the table. Snufkin inhales calmly and responds, “I did not. Moomin left me, I left the valley.”

Snorkmaiden is infuriated. How _dare_ he not realize the emotional distress he’s caused Moomin?! She thinks more, trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. He’s still kind and very much insistent that he wouldn’t leave Moomin. He’s still her friend and she should be generous toward him. Moomin did leave him, not the other way around. “Snufkin, dear,” she says, hoping to form a sentence that’ll be good for the situation, “are you mad at Moomintroll for what happened?”

He looks down at his tea, his grip tightening. “Not at him, but I am upset. I understand, though, and I don’t hold it against him.”

Snorkmaiden doesn’t know how to feel. It makes sense. Snufkin has every reason to be upset and she respects him for not projecting it onto Moomin. “He’s not available right now if you were wondering.”

“Oh, I’m not here for him. I just needed coffee and we’re too far from any good places to get any. That being said, thank you, Moominmamma. I best be off. Don’t tell Moomin I was here, he’ll try to come looking for me,” he mumbles the last bit but his intention is probably to remind himself that Moomin is having very conflicting feelings about him and it’s not wise to try to fix it just yet. Like wine, emotions need time. Snufkin, instead of immediately leaving, takes a second to look around the room, not focusing on anyone’s face. He shuffles a tad before yelping like a cartoon character. Snorkmaiden finds it to be semi-ironic but she can’t tell why.

“Say goodbye, numb-skull!” Little My yells through her teeth bared into Snufkin’s calf.

“Get _off_!” He kicks his leg to loosen her grip and she flings into the wall.

“Say goodbye and I’ll stop trying to bite you!”

“Fine, fine, don’t come any closer!” He stands up defensively. He takes a calm breath and says, “Goodbye, Little My. Goodbye, friends.” He nods complacently.

“Good enough. Leave and don’t linger.”

Snorkmaiden can’t tell why Little My feels so rotten about Snufkin leaving but she supposed that if her brother, the Snork, ever up and left, she would feel just as rotten.


	57. Moomin tells a joke.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moomin tells a joke.

Moomin can’t hear much from his bath but he gets the gist. Snufkin was having coffee or tea with his parents and everyone besides his Mamma and Pappa were angry at him. Moomin thinks it’s unfair to blame Snufkin’s departure on Snufkin, rather it would be fairer to blame it on Moomin himself.

Moomin remembers that it’s not healthy to blame things on yourself, or even others. Blaming is just an excuse for pride.

Moomin loses his thoughts when someone knocks on the door. He decides a joke will be best since tension seems high. “Come back with a warrant.”

Snorkmaiden giggles her fake laugh. Moomin forgot she has three laughs: a mean one (low and menacing), a fake one (short and vocal), and her truest, kind laugh (breathy and almost sounds like she has asthma). “Oh, Moomee--Moomintroll, you’re so funny.”

“No need to humor me. I’m almost done, is there a problem?”

She pauses before faking a laugh again. “No, sir! Just checking in!”

“Okay, you can leave.”

“Okay.” Her footsteps do not retreat until Moomin tells her:

“Leave.”

“Fine, I just want to make sure you’re okay, that’s all!” She scampers away.

Moomin cannot understand her motives but the uncertainty doesn’t last long as he decides to finish his bath.

He steps up and out then shakes his fur. Water gets everywhere. His fur is white! Not the cleanest it can be but still white. He supposes he might never recover fully.

He wipes himself down more with a towel to make him the dryest he can be and pokes his head out of the door, feeling refreshed. “Snorkmaiden?” calls Moomin.

Loud clacking noises sound from a room away from him and Snorkmaiden runs into the hall. “Yes, Moomintroll?”

“Do you have to comb me now or can I do that myself?”

“You get all the easy bits and I’ll get the others.”

“Sounds like a plan.”


	58. Chapter 58

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moomin yells at his parents and finds a tree.

Moomintroll and Snorkmaiden cheerily hop down the stairs and into a gloomy kitchen. 

Stinky speaks up first. “Hohoo! This is awkward, Moomintroll--” Moomin assumes Stinky was going to mention Snufkin.

Little My punches him to the ground in one swift movement. “What’s for dinner, Mamma?” My asks instead.

“Zucchini carbonara, dear. If you’re not up to that, I can whip up toast.”

Moomin would like Zucchini carbonara. That sounds very delicious.

Little My simply _bleches_ but hypocritically says, “Perfect idea, both!” Moomin can’t seem to get a straight analysis of this woman. It’s probably what she wants, to be honest.

“I’d like the carbonara, Mamma,” Sniff whines, holding his abdomen.

Moominmamma sighs and tells him, “Your tummy still hurting?”

“Mhm!” says he. What a brat, Moomin tartly thinks. Why does he get to be a baby? He’s just a little younger than the rest of them but he gets pampered. Moomin supposes that he gets pampered, too, now that he’s pondered it.

“Moominmamma, wife, the love of my life,” Pappa swoons. “Please tell me why we’re being silent about this? I simply do not understand!”

Everyone looked between Moomin and his father, looking nervous. Moomin sighs. “Is this about Snufkin being here?”

Everyone, like they have one brain cell, gasps. Snorkmaiden whispers, “How did you know?”

“Seriously, the walls aren’t soundproof. It’s pretty easy to hear what goes on in this house.”

Little My hums, “Yes, I would say it rather is. Every time he wakes up in winter, you can hear his sorry footsteps scatter here and there.”

Mamma and Pappa look to each other and then to the family, then to Moomin. Mamma starts, “Sorry, dear. We just didn’t want you to get hurt.”

Moomin, more and more recently, is angry. Frustrated. Upset. Wanting to break things. He breathes in slowly to calm himself down but his words are still sharp. “Why would it hurt me? I can’t understand why you think I’m so fragile. Sure! I turned invisible! Sure! I cry a lot! I’m not made of stone! I have to feel my feelings and it just happens to be a lot! But why can’t you get it through your thick skulls that I’m the one who left Snufkin?! He’s gone because of me! And I have to deal with that!” His face is flooded with tears. Stupid, stupid Moomintroll! Yelling at his family for caring about him? What a jerk! He feels the lightness rattle his bones.

“Moomin, please stop yelling,” Pappa tries but Moomin is not having it.

“Oh, yeah! Like you even know what’s going on! Tell me, Pappa. Tell me everything that has happened between me and Snufkin that everyone already knows. Prove to me that you have a say in what’s going on.”

Moominpappa looks offended. “Young man, you and Snufkin developed feelings for each other and you rejected him when he told you because he was not being kind about your confusion.”

Moomin sighs. “No, Pappa, that’s not why. He thought we were dating and talked to you about if he should say he loves me, and when he was talking to me about it, he yelled and threw a fit because I didn’t know we were dating.”

“I know enough!”

“You don’t care enough.”

“That’s it, both of you!” Mamma interjected. “Apologize, Moomintroll! Your father cares so much for you.”

Moomin suddenly feels embarrassed. Moominmamma is yelling at him. In front of people. For the first time since he was young. How horrid of the troll himself, to make Mamma lose her cool. “I think I’ll just… go.” He walks out of the door, ignoring the pleas from his friends and walks straight into the forest.

Randomly, sometime later, he happens upon a tree. It’s strange, in the late spring. Not golden from the fall. It’s green and bares flowers, the absence of any fruit being able to come from the blossoms.

“How particular,” Moomin notes. This tree was the tree Snufkin took him to before Moomin let his emotions spill. Before everything got worse. It’s a splendid looking tree. “Can you still sing or shall I whistle for you?”

The tree is knocked by some wind, causing it to chime. Moomin doesn’t understand what it’s trying to tell him so he starts whistling a light and springy tune. It’s quick with its notes and high in pitch.

The tree jingles with the wind more before being able to match the tune, then harmonizing with him. What a kind tree, to humor a troll that’s so rotten.


	59. Alicia shows up.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alicia shows up.

“Moomintroll?” a voice asks Moomin. “Well, strike me pink! I haven’t seen you in a while!”

Moomin opens his eyes to a woman with a surprising amount of piercings and hair the color of Snufkin’s. More orange, though. Oh, why does he have to relate everything to him? “Alicia?” he asks, really hoping it’s her. He has a headache and his jaw hurts, she might be able to help with the pain.

“The one and only! Oh, oh! I’m a full-fledged witch now, Moomin!”

“That’s great!” He doesn’t feel well but he’s still excited for her. This has been her dream since they were little.

“Are you in pain?”

“Yes, sorry, I hate to be a bother.”

“No, it’s okay. This tree can be testy sometimes. Attacked Grandma and Asterope the first time they were out here.”

Who’s Asterope? He’ll ask later. “The tree didn’t hurt me. I yelled a lot at home and whistled until I passed out here so... I have a killer headache.”

“I’ll bring you right to the hut. Let’s go, Moomin!” Alicia grabs his hand strangely forcefully and pulls him to his feet.

“Who’s Apostrophe?” Moomin asks, afraid to have the silence let him think.

Alicia smiles fondly. “Her name’s Asterope, like the butterfly. She’s my daughter.”

“Oh, good for you!” Moomin says, surprised. Everyone does grow without you, huh? Moomin can only imagine the child as either a sized-down version of the current Alicia or a tiny Grandma. Both are funny.

“How’s Snufkin?” Alicia asks, kicking a rock.

“Why?” he asks, all too quickly.

“You’re dating, right? Or, oh no! He broke up with you, didn’t he? I’m so sorry, it must feel bad.”

Moomin flushes. He doesn’t know why she would immediately guess that Snufkin would break up with him instead of the other way around. “We were never dating. He thought we were! Recently, though, we decided it’d be best that we not because… he hurt my feelings when he figured out that I didn’t know we were in a relationship. It was heartbreaking to break it off with someone who loved you so much they couldn’t handle it.”

Alicia gasps softly. She, Moomin supposes, was not expecting that. “Anything else? It seems like you have a lot on your chest.”

Moomin does. Talking to someone new, after everything is over, feels much more secure. “One time--wait, no, I need a second longer to think. This might end in tears.”

“That’s okay.”

She gives him as much time as he needs.


	60. Moomin has a pain-and-depression cure all prepared for him.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moomin has a pain-and-depression cure all prepared for him.  
> The spell that Alicia uses translates to: "Be careful. Repair the heart. Give a healthy mind." It repeats itself from Latin into Swedish.

Before Moomin steps into the hut after Alicia, he hears very loud footsteps run toward him. ‘What the--?”

“Mommy!” a snorkmaiden cries. She’s tall. As tall as Snufkin--oh, Moomin! Stop thinking of Snufkin! She has auburn fur, which is out of character for most snorks. Colors of happiness are usually pastel and bright. Her hair is a deep, vibrant blue. Like an Asterope butterfly! That must be Asterope. How clever of Moomin, to realize something like that.

“Asterope, child, this is Moomintroll, uses he/him pronouns, please do not run over him.”

“Okay!” She extends her hand out to Moomin. Her claws are dark brown. “I’m Asterope and I use she/her pronouns! My friends make fun of my name but I like it, and I know they’re just trying to make each other laugh. I don’t mind being the center of it.” What a surprisingly mature thing for a youngin to do, even if it was random. “I’m 10!” How?! How can she be twelve if the last time Moomin saw Alicia was 5 years ago? Alicia is a lot older than Moomin and his friends, so that checks out...

“Didn’t know she was my daughter until a few years ago but now I’m her main caretaker. She’s not entirely snork, her fur only changes shades, not hue if you were wondering.”

How can you not know someone is your daughter? Especially if you birthed them? Moomin does not understand a bit but is too embarrassed to ask. Moomin’s brain works hard for a moment before he remembers that Alicia wasn’t always Alicia. She used to be called Alexander. Oh, how many people are trans and he doesn’t know? It doesn’t bother him all that much, anyway, he’s just curious. Snufkin explained to Moomin that anyone can learn magic, only women are encouraged to. Alicia wasn’t encouraged to but she did anyway, and look at her now!

“Moomin, I asked if you wanted the cure to be inflicted as a spell or a tea? Tea tastes better but it takes longer.”

“Spell’s fine.”

Alicia doesn’t move. “Actually, Moomin, since I’m curing your pain right now, I can add in something else to make you feel better.”

“I don’t want any alcohol right now, thank you.”

Alicia laughs. “Silly troll, I meant a cure for your feelings. To make your emptiness start to go away. I don’t think it’s as mental as you think it is, it may just be some chemicals in your brain making you feel bad. Sure, some of it’s probably mental but wouldn’t you like to see if it’ll work?”

Yes, so much. But he would just be a bother if he said yes. To make her go out of her way would be selfish, right? “Would it be a bother to you?”

“It’s my passion, Moomin. I love making potions, I trained for so long to be able to do so.” She goes to a cabinet and carefully pulls out a blue powder and a yellow plant of sorts. It looks like berries. She crushes the berries and sprinkles the powder over the squished plant. “Asterope, get the lavender and some wild ginger, could you? And find the mortar and pestle…” Asterope nods and skips away.

“How’s your grandmother been doing? I’ve yet to see her,” Moomin wonders aloud.

“She’s probably put causing chaos, trolling people and whatnot--no offense. Really into trickery these days. Says it's good to pull hijinks every once awhile. Personally, I think she’s just bored.”

Grandma suddenly throws open a door from the middle of the living room. It was not there before, she seems to have conjured it for her entrance. “My ears have been burning, Alicia! What have you told this beast about me?”

Alicia smiles warmly. “Moomin asked what you’ve been up to. Filled him in a bit.”

“I was not hexing people today, Alicia! I was trying to find you a nice lady to settle down with. Ran across little Snorkmaiden today but you’ve got a daughter half her age so I thought that would be weird for everyone.”

Alicia nods and points to Moomin. “He’s here to recover from a nasty pain he’s dealt with. Never seen such a sight.”

Grandma looks Moomintroll up and down. She sniffs the air in the kitchen a bit. “You’re see-through, young one. Did you know that?”

Moomin gulps. “Y-yes, ma’am. I didn’t think it was bad today. I was completely solid yesterday, I promise.”

“This has been recurring? How peculiar… They do say each case is specific to its victim. Glad to smell that Alicia’s cooking up something to help you. I do say, Alicia, dear, are you planning to steep that into tea or have it be a spell?”

Alicia sat herself down in a chair. “I’m going to enchant tea and make it a steady remedy. If the spell doesn’t work, it will still be helpful with the herbs.”

“Smart work, granddaughter. Is Asterope collecting something for you? Her garden boots are gone?”

Moomin feels happy that this entire conversation isn’t about him. It is but it doesn’t feel like it is. Asterope suddenly steps into the threshold of the hut and kicks her shoes off.

She hops over to her mother and sets a burlap sack and a tiny bowl with some sort of pounder down. “Here you are. Hello, Grandma! Goodbye, everyone, I’ll be off to my room.” She clumsily makes her way to the stairs and descends until Moomin can’t see her anymore.

Alicia works quickly and Moomin doesn’t know what’s going on. Suddenly, Alicia’s speaking words he’s never heard and steeping the items she’s collected over a large pot with boiling water in it. Grandma takes a pitcher filled with some brown liquid and sets it next to her granddaughter. Alicia immediately pours it into her concoction. After a few minutes of Moomin having no idea what’s going on, Alicia hums a tune that seems familiar. Like a spring tune that Snufkin might have shared or--Moomin! Stop thinking about him! Not everything has anything to do with him!

She whispers what only can be described as a spell (“ _Custodite animas vestras. Var försiktig. Reparare cor. Reparera hjärtat. Da sanam mentem. Ge ett friskt sinne_ ,”) and says, “Ta-dah! I’ll get you a flask so you can drink it on the go. Take a few sips every day for a week, then get back to me. I’d love to help you out more.” She bumbles around the kitchen for a flask and finds a rather large one. She fills it up and sends him on his way. “Good luck, Moomintroll. I’m rooting for you.”


	61. Moomin feels better and Snufkin comes back.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moomin feels better and Snufkin comes back.

Weeks seem short sometimes. Moomin gets up every day, takes a swig of the potion, does his boring everyday things, apologizes profusely to his parents, gets ready for sleep, takes a swig of the potion, and goes to sleep. By the end of his week, he notices that he no longer feels light. He’s grounded and protected and nothing can knock him down. The only thing that is lighter is how he carries himself. He doesn’t feel tired and drowsy anymore, he feels like he’s one with the universe.

He prides himself on how he feels, he’s found. When he feels bad, he believes he’s worthless; when he feels good, he believes he’s invincible. He knows that, realistically, he is not invincible, only that he can now think about things more clearly and it makes him feel powerful.

He also prides himself on not waking up just to see Snufkin anymore. He wakes up for himself.

Little My, in pursuit of her own happiness, still makes fun of him. This particular day, on his trip to reunite with Alicia, he is followed by her. “My, I know you’re there, come out.”

“No!” she snickers from all directions, somehow. “Someone just came into the valley, I can feel it in my bones!”

“Nonsense, Little My, now can you just reveal yourself? I would enjoy not fearing for my safety.”

“Whatever, but before your pathetic mental health check, let’s see who it is!”

“Fine, My. But you have to promise me you’ll come out and stop being weird for the day.”

“Deal!” He feels her boots suddenly dig into his upper back and her chin rest on his head. Much like Remy and Linguini from Ratatouille, she takes his ears and steers him back to the bridge near Moominhouse. “Bet he’ll come running here…”

“Wait a second,” Moomin starts before he hears a sweet melody fill the air. It makes him crave honeysuckle nectar and a warm hug.

The song stops very suddenly and Snufkin comes diving into Moomin’s arms. “Moomintroll!” he yells. Moomin can already feel his fur dampen from tears.

His tunic is gone and his hat only holds a feather and his scarf is replaced by a wreath of leaves. He’s different and that’s okay.

“Oh, Snufkin! How I’ve missed you,” he pats Snufkin’s back and sets him back down. “I love you,” he says to him, looking directly into his eyes. Little My gags, confident that Moomin won’t get hurt from it.

“Yes,” Snufkin says nonchalantly but Moomin knows when Snufkin’s excited, he is his best friend.

“I’ve got some business to tend to… would you like to join me? I’ll be going to Alicia’s hut.”

“Oh? Is it not the Witch’s anymore?”

“Alicia’s a full-grown witch now, I don’t think it can be called that.” Moomin and Snufkin--with the annoying addition of Little My--walk to the hut with Moomin explaining everything he’s learned, including Asterope and her tendencies and how Snufkin will introduce himself with his name and pronouns, as is customary with the family of witches.

Little My knocks on the hut before immediately entering and demanding snacks from a very confused Asterope.

“Hello, who are you two?” she asks Snufkin and My.

“Bandits!” Little My says.

Snufkin corrects her, “Friends of your mother. I’m Snufkin, he/him. That tyrant is Little My, she/her.”

Asterope eyes them suspiciously but still sets out a plate of cookies for them. She promises she can’t enchant the cookies because she’s not talented enough after My threatens her.

Alicia steps into the room and greets her guests, making a point to stare at Snufkin before speaking. “I thought you were gone.”

“Came back.” Snufkin sounds tart and Moomin begins to become concerned.

“Anyway,” Moomin interrupts, “I feel so much better.”

Alicia smiles triumphantly. “I’ll give you a less pungent dose now, and your body will heal the rest in time. Be careful, alright?”

Moomin nods and waits for his flask to be filled with more serum, as he likes to refer to it. His time hasn’t been all happy-go-lucky. He’s found himself more irritable and woozy. Maybe he should bring that up. “Well, I’ve been feeling more prone to lashing out lately and a little dizzy from time to time, but that’s fine isn’t it?”

“Sadly, yes, that can happen. The book I’m using for a reference to mental health says that those are common. Nothing to be afraid of but I’m afraid that too much magic might harm you. Maybe you should drink more water? That might help.”

“Of course, thank you, Alicia. I’ve done my business here, so I bid you farewell. Goodbye.” He motions his hands for his buddies to get up. They do so and they set off for Moominhouse.


	62. Chapter 62

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They go back to the island.

“I know just what we need to celebrate this occasion!” Pappa says, referring to Snufkin coming back for real, not just for supplies. “A trip! Maybe back to that island to properly explore it! Come on family, let’s set out for sea!”

Moominfamily, not fully recovered from anything that’s happened this year, sluggishly cooperate, a pang for adventure still reigning in their hearts.

Their sailing is boring and way less horrible than the last one. Well, not less, just a different annoying that’s easy to get rid of. That being, every time Stinky says a word, Snufkin threatens to throw him overboard.

There are no snorks or mymbles or mumriks or moomins making any noises that Moomin registers as annoying. They might be making noises a past Moomintroll might have flown off the rails at but he’s matured. He’s no longer wanting to jump into the glorious sea just to feel alive, he just wants to stay with Snufkin and let him know that they’re alright. Everything is fine, now.

Moominpappa is far too focused on sailing the ship to make Moomin uncomfortable. Stinky is too afraid. The mice that they found living in their ship are happily being silent.

Before the get halfway to where Pappa’s hopes the island is, he spots two tall trees. Moomin knows right away that they’re the giants. Pappa shares that he wants the giants to serve as a lighthouse for the island so they actually know where they’re going. Pappa does not know if the giants are actually on the island but he hopes they are.

They park their boat on the island, weary of their position to the giants. They certainly are on the correct island, thank Tove.

“DENVIR! LANDGRAVE!” Snufkin yells for their attention. The giants turn quickly and greet them. Landgrave takes a step too far and squishes Stinky. Everyone soon finds out the Stinky has no bones and they cease Sniff’s cries of woe.

The Moomins’ and company make their campsite and relish in the greenery of the island. How wonderful!

The sun goes down but the moon does not come up. Snufkin remarks, “Must be a new moon,” and throws a sleeping mat in the tent next to Moomintroll’s. “I have a quest for us.”

“A quest?” Moomin laughs. “Does it involve finding some sort of specific item we have to get and then bring it back to the king for a chance at his fair maiden’s heart?”

Snufkin stifles a laugh and answers, “No, silly. Quest as in a trip that has a specific purpose and destination. Let’s get started.” He walks in the direction of the middle of the island. Moomin hopes it’s to the cave they saw before.


	63. The title is said.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The title is said.

Snufkin drops into the cave quickly, causing Moomintroll to almost trip into it. He does not, thankfully, and manages to not hurt himself again. “Where are we going?” he asks.

“You’ll see, my Moomintroll. No need to fret.” Ah, that Snufkin. He knows Moomin too well.

They arrive in the area where the moss roses grew, now plentiful from the humidity. A dim light shines onto them, making Moomin feel giddy.

Snufkin closes his eyes and spins twice, counting his turns carefully, and stays silent, arms outstretched. He opens his eyes again and smiles at Moomin. He places his hand on the moss and grabs a clump. He sheepishly turns to Moomin.

Moomin is nervous and confused. What’s he doing?

“Dearest Moomintroll, I cannot bake. I am but a traveler who does not carry much but I must ask you, do you accept my gift of moss roses?”

Moomin knows Snufkin is referring to courting him and Moomin simply does not want to wait any longer to be with this mumrik. “Uhh… moss roses? Of course, I do, Snufkin. I must say, I won’t eat them, though.”

They laugh until Moomin’s stomach hurts. He feels so warm, so safe. So glad that they’ve fixed themselves.

They speak about everything: Moomin keeping secrets, Snufkin leaving and leaving and leaving, Moomin accusing him, Snufkin getting upset. Everything. They refuse to leave any stone unturned. They need to figure themselves out. They do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had fun writing this. It's a trainwreck and that's fine. I tried and it's all I could've hoped for.


End file.
